The Art of Saying Goodbye
by moonlessmondays
Summary: After six years of being together, circumstances had them breaking up. But how do they move on when they're still very much in love with each other? In which Regina and Robin learn the art of saying goodbye. OQ AU.
1. 1: Breathe Again

**_Yeah,it appears that when I think of taking a break, I write a story instead. This is for my girls, the Trash Band because they're all so lovely and supportive. Also, they've gone and updated their stories which is terrific and i love them for it._**

 ** _Here's some_ angsty ( _very questionable) one shot for ya._**

 ** _Enjoy._**

* * *

 _Breathe Again_

 _"_ _But what kind of heart doesn't look back?"_

She takes one last look at the apartment, making sure she's not left anything behind, before she closes the door and locks it for the last time. She had never thought it would end like this, never once did she imagine it ever ending at all…and that had been naïve of her, because if there is one thing she'd learned with love is that there are no happy endings…no, not quite. Life is not a fairytale, after all.

But it had been a great thought, to think that they were destined to be together, to be each other's second chances, and that they could, _would_ , end up happily together. Only it had been a pipe dream, something made out of dreams, something she never thought she could ever have—and surprise, surprise, she'd been right.

A tear slides down her eyes, and her hands tremble as one clenches into a fist at her side and the other grips the door knob. Her legs are shaking and it's a wonder how she's still standing at all, when her heart feels like it's cracking and shattering in so many pieces. She can't walk away, not like this, not now, not from him, but it seems that she's left with no recourse.

She pushes herself forward then, tries to stand on her wobbly legs and walks away from what has been her home for the past three years. She'd timed it this way, made sure that he isn't there when she came to gather her things. She can't see him, can't face him after everything, because she isn't sure she won't run into his arms and beg him to stay, ask him to ask her to not leave. She isn't sure she can walk away from him, not again.

Her heels click clack against the ground as she walks briskly, away from the apartment, away from every trace of him, leaving her heart where it will always be, and she feels so bad, feels like breaking, feels like…she doesn't know. She almost feels numb from the pain that frays around the edges of the heart, taking it apart at the seams, and the tattered pieces of it finding its way down her eyes through her endless tears.

It had been stupid, really, why they'd decided to call it off, to break up, and she can't find logic nor reason in it now that she's faced with its reality. She'd been mad, frustrated, and he had been in a snit too, having been let off from his work. At first she had understood, it had been a painful ordeal for him and she knows that, and she'd been supportive, never once making him feel less like a man as she shouldered their bills and urged him to find another job. She'd encouraged him, tried to understand his moods, and had given him a breather when he'd felt like wallowing in self pity. She hadn't said anything but the whispered _I love you's_ and _I believe in you_. But he'd begun resorting to alcohol as the months wore on and she'd been tired of it by the time it had reached the third month. He'd been surly and moody, and though he'd never hurt her (not like her ex-husband had, anyway), it had reminded her of such bitter past that she'd started resenting him, feeling frustration build up around her heart too, even when she'd tried to fight it. She hadn't been angry, she had only wanted him to stop and get his life together.

But she'd had a particularly bad day at work, and he'd been drunk as a fish the time she'd gotten home and she'd snapped at him, and asked him why he's sitting on his bum rather than trying to look for work, and that she's tired enough of paying their bills by herself and had not needed him to add to her expenses by being a drunkard. It had hit a sore nerve, he'd been insecure, she knows, and it had brought on a fight of epic proportions and they both blew off their tops.

They'd yelled at each other, and it had her throwing at him the promise ring he'd given her, screaming that she can't take it anymore. He'd snapped then, telling her that he was tired of her constant coddling anyway, and making him feel like a child and being treated with kid gloves (she'd yelled that if he had wanted not to be treated like a child then he should stop acting like one). He'd slept on the couch that night, after she'd told him that it's over, she's done, and perhaps, it was time to rethink things.

She had not slept a wink that night, her tears never ending, to the point that she couldn't breathe. And when she'd woken up he had been gone, without a word or a note, without anything. And the hope she'd kept at the crevices of her heart that they could work it out come morning, apologize for the words that they've said due to the heat of the moment, talk about it like adults, had snuffed out. She'd deflated. And it had all seemed final.

She'd packed her bags at that moment and had been out the door, asking her friend Mallory to take her in a few days until she can find her own place, explaining that she and Robin were no longer together. She hadn't explained what had happened, hadn't had the need to, because Mal had taken her in without questions, promising to help her in whichever way she can.

But how could anyone help her when all she needs is _him?_

 ** _ooooo_**

She feels empty.

She feels like a shell of a person devoid of a soul and a heart, and she doesn't understand why she feels this way, why she feels this resounding pain. Because she isn't like this—she's never been. For so long, she's taken pride on the fact that she, Regina Mills, never needed anyone to depend on.

But he—he is different and in his own way, he had changed her, and it's hard to keep going on the way she's always had when she feels like she's forgotten how to be who she used to be before him.

It doesn't feel right now, not to be with him, to sleep in a bed where he isn't there to warm up, to go to sleep when she isn't in his arms. It had been weeks since then, yet she still feels as though a part of her had gone missing, had died, and still, she finds it hard to function, going about her days as though she is an automaton, going through the motions but not alive enough to really actually live.

Not for the first time, she asks herself why and how they'd gotten here.

And once again she reminds herself why this separation is necessary (but she doesn't really have a good reason why she's spending nights away from him and not beside him when that is what she wants, only she supposes she doesn't know what _he_ wants, not anymore).

She turns in the bed, for what seems to be nth time, trying to find a comfortable position, even knowing that there is none, not without him beside her, but still, she tries, because she owes herself that much. Maybe, just as much as she owes it to herself to be given the time to come to terms to all of this, and maybe just as much as Robin owes it not only to her, but also himself, to get his act together.

(But it hurts, god it hurts so much to be far away from him, even if it this might be the right thing to do for the both of them, and she isn't sure how long she can last without him).

She closes her eyes, willing her tears away and swallowing the lump that seems to have permanently lodged itself in her throat.

Is it really possible to be this hurt?

And is it really possible to love someone this much?

Her queries are left unanswered as her phone beeps beside her, and it's him, and she doesn't know what to do—her heart says pick up when her brain says no. But she doesn't wonder for long, the message now having gone through her voice mail.

She presses the device close to her ear, his voice filling her ears and it takes everything in her not to run to her car and drive back to their— _his—_ apartment.

Her heart constricts and for a moment she can't breathe, feels her breath actually leave her lungs.

 _'_ _Hi, it's me, Robin,'_ he says, his voice broken, tired, _'And I…'_ There is a long pause pregnant with words that he doesn't say and that she wants to hear…She hears him breathe in deeply. And the words that tumble of his mouth has her gasping, has her heart stuttering and her hands trembling. ' _I just wanted to tell you that I miss you…and that I love you…because…I do, I always will. And I know that I've fucked it up…but never, not once had I stopped loving you and for all the other things that I've failed you…I just want you to know that I loved you…I still do.'_

The call ends and she hears the disconnection tone, but his words ring in her ears, find their way into her heart and etch itself on her mind and her flesh, and she wonders…she wonders when she can breathe again.

* * *

 **A/N: there might be a 2nd chapter to this depending on you lot, so we'll see. Let me know!**


	2. 2: Breakeven

**You guys are freaking awesome do you know that? I know I haven't replied to you reviews, but I appreciate it! thank you all so much. And due to the overwhelmingly positive reviews, her's the second installment.**

 **This is basically just Robin's side to the story, so nothing new here. But I will kiss and hug you virtually if you still read it.**

 **This one's for NoraMills who woke up at 5 and the first things she did were drink water and check my update HAHA.**

 **Enjoy lovelies!**

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

 _Breakeven_

 _"_ _The best part of me was always you."_

It is ironic how the very thing that comforts him and relieves him of his misery is the very one that's caused it in the first place. He'd laugh at it if he isn't so goddamned desolate.

He swirls the amber liquid round the glass, his eyes blurred with the tears he barely stops himself from shedding. His heart is shattering, breaking in so many million pieces, and he's not sure he has enough pieces of it to put back together, not sure he has it in the first place, because he knows, he's sure that she must have taken it with her when she'd left—he feels so empty. He can't even recognize himself anymore, he's not himself, not the man he used to be before, and he feels like it's right, it's just right that he'd let her go—she deserves better, so much better than who he is now and what he can give (more accurately what he can't give), but it hurts, it bloody hurts to not have her by his side.

It's his fault. He knows that, at least, even if he doesn't know exactly to make it right. He'd been frustrated, angry. He'd been laid off work and weeks and weeks of looking for another had turned out without pleasing results. He'd been angry at himself, at Keith  
Nott who had been his boss, and had unjustly let him off work for some sort of misunderstanding, he'd been angry at his inability to get a job, therefore making a bum out of himself and letting his girlfriend shoulder all the burden that he's supposed to take, or at least share with her. She'd been supportive, whispering her words of love and support, her unwavering belief in him had been his strength at first but as the frustration ran high and his determination faltered, his will burning out as the months wore on, he'd turned on to alcohol. The fights had become a permanent fixture in their household then, every night had been spent with them being mad, and he can honestly say that he'd spent more nights with his back turned to her in those months than in the whole duration of their relationship.

He supposes he should have done something more, could have done something more, should have asked her to stay and forgive him for everything, but pride was all that he had left at that point, and he'd held on to it, had told her that he was done being coddled and treated like a child when she'd thrown her promise ring at him and told him that she was done with him being a bum that he was. She'd implied that he was being a drunk, something she knew he'd never want to be (his father was once a drunk, and he'd been the worst person that Robin knew, right up there with Regina's ex husband, and it had stung when what he'd heard from her words was that he was becoming like his father). She'd told him they were over that night.

It had felt so final.

He'd slept on the couch, wanting to give her space, wanting to let her stew and cool off from her anger, and he'd left the house early because he had wanted to give her the day to herself, hadn't wanted her to awaken to the sight of him still on the couch and further increase her ire. He told himself that they could still work it out, that she just needed time, and they could apologize and mean it, and talk about things, and all will be fine. He'd believed that she was his happy ending, after all, his second chance, and he'd naively thought that they were going to live happily together, like those in the stupid fairytale books (oh, how naïve he had been). He'd come back home that day, roses in hand, and apologies in mind, only to find that she'd up and left, packed her bags and had not even bothered to say goodbye.

Though thinking about it now, he would not have survived saying goodbye that day…he'd never thought he'd ever have the need to, never thought he ever will.

He'd waited, days, weeks, had counted the minutes to when she'd call him and tell him that it'd been a stupid mistake…the call had come, but only for her to say that she was going to pick up her things…he'd been crushed, but he loved her enough to let her have whatever her heart desired even if it tore his in the process.

He had not had the strength to be there when she did, and he'd left the house the whole day when she picked up her things. When he'd come back to their— _his —_ apartment, her things were gone and it had felt strangely empty, like so many pieces had gone missing. And he knew, it had been her—she'd been missing, all the pieces of him she'd carried along with her.

Now she's gone, and he doesn't know what to do, doesn't know where to go, doesn't know who he is. And when he sees himself in the mirror, he feels like he knew who the man used to be, but doesn't know who he is now anymore.

He breathes in deeply and takes a swig of his whisky—something that only serves to remind him of her, of how this broken love story had begun in the first place, and it hurts, his heart hurts, and he tries to chase it down with another gulp, the liquid sliding down his throat leaving a fiery trail, but it does nothing to the pain, does nothing to ease him of his heartache, only serves to numb the dull, throbbing ache until he's passed out drunk, but he knows the pain will come back in the morning, complete with a heavy hangover.

Everything happens for a reason, they all say that, but still, reasons don't mend broken hearts, do they? And no, no reason, no rationalization could ever make him feel better about being apart from her like this. Noting could make him feel better about spending nights without her by his side: the bed is too huge and too empty, the night too cold without her in his arms.

Nothing feels right, his days are too long and too exhausting, and he is tired, so tired of not being with her.

" _Get your act together_ ," his friend, John, would say, and he'd agreed, he has to, if he ever wants a shot at getting back together with Regina, but it's all easier said than done, isn't it?

And even if he did, would she still come back to him?

She deserves better, better than him.

But what is he without her? What is he supposed to be when all that is good in his is gone, gone away with her?

He sighs, sucks in a deep breath and tries to shake himself out of his desolate thoughts. He looks around him, looks at the ceiling and thinks that nothing means anything without her: not this house, not all these things, not even his life.

He doesn't need this, any of this, all he needs is _her_.

After all, the best part of him is and will always be her.

 **oooooo**

It's not a good idea, he knows, but his mind is too addled with alcohol for him to care, and he misses her, misses her so much it bloody fucking hurts—it's almost like having his heart ripped out of his chest (and no, he's not had experience of such, only has an experience of her being so unjustly ripped from his side, and that's enough, enough for him to know that there is no pain that should equate to that, and it might even be wrong for him to say it, but this hurts more than the time he'd lost his wife), and no, he doesn't like this feeling. And so he picks up his phone and dials her number, waits for her to pick up, knowing she won't, because she won't be awake, because she won't want to talk to him.

He hears the beep, signaling that whatever he is about to say will go straight to voice mail, and he prays, hopes she'd give it a listen, even when he feels like she won't. (He knows she won't return his call, that goes without saying, but he hopes she would at least listen).

 _"_ Hi, it's me, Robin," he says, and his voice sounds broken, tired, even to him, he continues with "And I…" but he pauses, the silence that fills in full of words that he leaves unsaid, words that he _should_ say and she should hear, but they are stuck in his throat, stuck at the tip of his tongue.

He is trembling, shaking with the need to hold her, kiss her, fill his senses with everything that is her, hers, but he knows he can't, he'd fucked it up too much.

"I just wanted to tell you that I miss you…and that I love you…because…I do, I always will. And I know that I've fucked it up…but never, not once had I stopped loving you and for all the other things that I've failed you…I just want you to know that I loved you…I still do," he breathes out, as if his words are flowing right out of his heart, and damn it, his eyes burn with tears, a few errant ones finding their way down his cheeks, and god, bloody fucking hell it hurts, everything hurts.

He wants to hold her.

God damn it, he wants to be with her

How does he even continue to live without her when she's all he needs?

The disconnection tone greets his ears and he throws his phone somewhere behind him, not really caring—he can't find it in himself to care, not when he doesn't even have his heart with him, not when she'd taken it with her.

Not when she'd taken all of him with her.

* * *

 **A/N:** Not sure if it's a bad thing or a good thing, but there WILL be a next chapter(s) to this. No worries. this has become a sort of one shot series based on songs (so if you all have songs you'd want me to consider, don't hesitate to put it in the reviews section and I'll have a look!). It will be lovely to hear from you all! :)


	3. 3: If You Ever Come Back

**Hey guys! Thanks for the reviews and the follows and the faves! Here's the third chapter and it's Robin's pov. I was originally going to post Regina's, but this jumped at me and made me write it.**

 **Thanks to gelibass (reginashappiness on tumblr) for the pre-read, pre-approve, and for the wonderful tears, I appreciate it.**

 **Now on with the angst, er, story.**

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

 _If You Ever Come Back_

 _"_ _I'm risking everything I own, but there isn't anything I can lose in the break in that you haven't taken."_

"You're crazy man," John Little, his best friend, tells him as he enters the empty apartment. John's booming voice wakes Robin from his restless slumber (he'd been sleeping on the couch, unable to sleep in the bed he used to occupy with her, the pain of sleeping there without her in his arms too much to bear, but he does keep her pillow with him, hadn't even bothered to change it because he can still smell her, her scent lingering on the last piece that he has that is hers).

Robin opens his eyes, blinks, trying to clear his vision, trying to wake just enough to be coherent. He sees John looking at him with groceries in one hand and some take-out food on the other. Robin sighs and surveys the room. He hasn't really bothered to clean up since Regina had left him, hadn't been able to do much other than drink some more and pass out, only to wake with a wicked headache the next morning. He does the same thing every day, repeats the cycle every night. He's lost count of the number of bottles he'd drunk since that night. Mr. Clark from the convenient store a block from his apartment must be able to fund a trip by now.

Robin stands up and offers to help John, who'd waved him off and tried to walk towards the kitchen without tripping. It had been a struggle.

There are bottles everywhere, the only proof of his liquor-filled nights as he doesn't even have any recollection of them. The clutter of the once pristine apartment is something that Regina would have disapproved of, if she'd been there, anyway.

Better yet, the clutter won't have existed with her there.

" _The mess takes up space,"_ she'd tell him with a disgusted scrunch of her nose, her lips turning into a frown. She would pick up the piles of mess and leave no trace of it behind. She likes everything clean.

He'd promised her once that he was going to buy them a house fit for her, a queen, promised himself that he'd give her everything she deserved, but she'd always have the same answer whenever he'd tell her of his plans.

" _Nonsense,"_ she tells him, " _I don't need a mansion or any of those stupid things. I've had it and it had been the loneliest, most dreadful experience. I don't care about the house, all I care about is that we live there together…happy and in love."_

He'd agreed with her then. It hadn't really mattered to him, all he'd ever wanted was for her to be happy. But that doesn't seem possible now, does it?

"You left your door open man," John says as he comes back into the room, take-out in hand, offering them to Robin who waves his hand off and points to the table. John sighs, but places the food on what space he could find on the table. "You must have been drunk off your ass again."

Robin plops down the couch with a grunt, regretting it as his headache seems to intensify with the action. He looks away from his friend and bites his lip. "I left it open," Robin admits quietly.

"What?" John asks, clearly surprised. "What do you mean you left it open?"

It's stupid and Robin knows that, but he can't help it, can't help but leave the door open in case she returns, in case she wants to come home. She'd left her keys the last time she'd been there to collect her things, and that had been that, had felt like closure for her, but it hadn't for him, it only managed to shatter his heart. He'd known then that she wasn't planning on coming back, in his mind he knew just that, but his heart had betrayed him, and he had kept hoping since then, kept wishing she'd come back, tell him she'd changed her mind and she needs him as much as he does her.

He'd left the door open in case she wanted to come home.

But she never had, never did.

"You're making it easy for the burglars," John points out, and it's a fair point, Robin concedes, but not something he considers.

"There isn't anything of value in here," Robin replies with a wave of his hand. "Nothing in here that matters that she hasn't taken with her."

John looks at him sadly, clearly not used to _this_ Robin, to the wallowing Robin who drunk like a fish and pined for the woman he loves so. But what is there to do?

"Robin," John says and it's a mixture of warning and pity, and Robin knows that John doesn't know what to do, doesn't know what to say, can only watch his best friend as he drops his head in the cradle of his palms, sobs that don't fall racking his body, the pain that is so clear to anyone who would spare a glance at Robin tearing him apart at the seams.

John doesn't need to say that Regina is not coming home, not anymore, Robin already knows that.

"She was all I had, John," Robin says with a shake of his head. "All that mattered to me and she's gone. And I know, I know that she's gone, that she won't be coming back, that I've fucked it up so badly that she's…she's not coming home anymore because this is no longer her home."

John remains silent knowing Robin needs this, needs to let it out, that the pain has been eating at him for so long, and he needs to get it out.

"In my mind I know that, know that she's no longer mine, but my heart whispers a different thing, and I can't help but hold out hope that there is a part of her that she's left with me, that somehow, she's just as incomplete as I am right now, that there is a part of her that can't live without me, because that's me, John. I can't live without her."

"You can't keep doing this to yourself, Robin," John says, and it's the only thing he can say, only thing that should be said, because he is right, Robin can't keep doing this to himself.

If he could take back time, he would. And if he could just undo things, past events, he would. He would do anything to have her back in his arms. Because he knows, he is certain that that is exactly where she belongs—in his arms.

And it feels so empty now that she isn't there.

"But I love her," Robin says, "and I'm just not ready to say goodbye to her just yet."

And maybe he never will be.

* * *

 **A/N: How was that? Would love to hear your thoughts! And thanks for those who have given me suggestions for songs, I've listed them down and are considering a fair few. Would love to hear more! Also, Let's Play A Game update coming up! :)**


	4. 4: T-Shirt

**_Hello hello. It's been a long time! Sorry to post this at such a time where everything is so crazy and just so painful in the cannon, hope no one hates me for it. :( I don't think this chap is THAT angsty anyway, so you know :) let's just get on with it._**

 _For Geli who likes to beat her feels a lot._

* * *

 _T-shirt_

 _"Nothing feels right when I'm not with you."_

The bitter cold winter breeze hits her face as she jogs around Central Park, her cheeks hollowing as she huffs and puffs, her feet landing against the pavement making light slapping sounds. She keeps her eyes trained on her trail humming along the music as Adele blares out of her earphones.

The bitter coldness that makes her huff and puff a little heavier is nothing compared to the bitter coldness fraying the edges of her heart, but she ignores that steadfastly, lets her feet thump against the ground in a perfect rhythm, each step she makes a step further away from the problems and issues she is trying to run from. But really, how can she run from them when they're in her heart? When the issue that she tries to run away from is carved in her heart so deeply, so engraved in her being, and etched in her mind she feels the need to rip her soul apart to take the pain away.

 _Robin_.

His name ghosts in her head and her heart that she finds herself pausing, her palms slapping on her knees as she hunches down and huffs and huffs, her breath coming out of her lips with a fog. She needs to stop this, needs to get her life together because really, this is the choice she made for the both of them, and she needs to stick by it. In fact this whole getting out and taking a run had been her brilliant idea of taking her life back from the hands of grief and despondence.

She feels the tears prick at her eyes, and no she shouldn't, _couldn't_ , cry over this again. She feels her throat thicken and her vision blurs. But this is _her_ choice, isn't it? She's made this decision: to let him go and set him free, and as cliché as it probably sounds, she needs him to get his life together, not for her, but for himself, because she can see how quickly he's losing himself, and no, she doesn't want to have to keep being the one to stand for the both of them when she knows how very capable he is to stand for himself. That it is not the man he is, she knows that, and maybe, he needs a bit of push. And it's selfish of her, but she doesn't, _didn't_ , think she could stay in a relationship that ate at her, and him, and their relationship until they are nothing more than tattered pieces of something that used to be whole, and only waiting to fall apart.

They need time apart, that much she knows and that much had been decided, clearly.

Maybe he needs to find himself first, again, before he can give himself to her.

Maybe she needs to find her will again before she can help him find his.

God she only wishes it didn't hurt this much, because damn it, she feels her heart break into tiny pieces.

Sucking in a deep breath, she stands up straight and lifts her chin. Taking the route back to her new apartment, she jogs slowly this time, and works hard in trying to breathe in and out, tries not to stumble.

Sometimes, people really do get stuck in the choices they make.

 **ooo**

Her tears mingle with the warm water cascading from the shower head, and for what seems to the nth time, she cries her heart out. It doesn't feel freeing, not like she's always felt when she cries, this feels like a burden, like all the weight of the world falls on her shoulders the more they heave, feels like her heart falls apart and breaks at the seams and she doesn't know how to put it back. No, that isn't true, she knows…so why the hell is she punishing them both this way?

She tries to remind herself that it's for the best. But an aching heart is not easily cajoled, isn't easily healed by words, and when actions are necessary, but not something that can be made, what is a heart left to do?

She hears her phone ring even through the sound of the water falling, pooling at her feet, but she pays it no mind, concentrates instead on the feeling that is knotting in her chest, the one that holds her heart in a tight grip, squeezing and squeezing.

The phone beeps, and the voicemail kicks in, and for a moment she lets herself hope that it's Robin, checking in on her—and yes, that is selfish, but she wants to hear his voice, craves him so much it almost isn't logical—only to be left disappointed to hear that it's only Mary Margaret, checking in on her, asking her for her plans this coming weekend.

Regina snorts at that.

She doesn't have plans, can't fucking make them anymore, not without him because for the past few years it's always been them, a party of two, together, but now it's her and him, he and she, and it doesn't feel right, doesn't sit well with her.

She lets the message run through and stays under the warm spray for a few minutes longer until she feels her fingers pruning and the water turning colder. She steps out of the shower and dresses herself. Really, she needs to sort some of her things and not wallow like this.

Squaring her shoulders, she readies herself to tackle the last of the remaining boxes that need sorting. She's piled them on her spare bedroom, not really wanting to deal with them at all—the boxes are comprised of the things she's acquired while with Robin, the remnants of the last six years she's spent by his side…it's all nothing but memories now it seems.

She parks herself on the floor and opens the flaps of the boxes, her heart hammering in her chest and her hands trembling. When does anyone ever become ready for this, she wonders.

It isn't half way through sorting the box that the onslaught of tears really did begin, however, and really, she hadn't thought she'd cry over this, but she supposes it isn't so much as the object itself but the memories that come with it.

 _…_

 _"_ _Robin, no," she yelps as she sees him coming towards her with a grin on his face and the brush on his hands. They'd been painting the spare bedroom, and had been a bit carried away, splashing each other with paint, and as a result, their t-shirt now bore the marks of their "paint war"._

 _"_ _Regina, yes," he teases as he comes towards her, hand raised, ready to fling the paint on her. She doesn't mind not really, they'll shower it off together, and this…this is actually fun. "Come 'ere, love."_

 _But she doesn't, instead she makes a break of it, makes a mad dash down the hall and towards their bedroom where she almost escapes him by a breadth, but he nips her by the waist, pulling her back to him, making her squeal (and no, she doesn't really squeal, but she did just) and laugh as he nuzzles her neck with his nose, nipping her skin, and tickling her just as he does._

 _"_ _You can't escape me darling," he says with a laugh._

 _She turns in his arms and holds on to him, smiling softly, "I never did say I want to," she tells him sincerely, leaning to him and kissing him, letting her actions tell him exactly what her words couldn't._

 _She'd tugged on his shirt then, pulling it off from him as she pulled him in the bedroom, closing the door behind him. She'd slept wearing his shirt that night, letting the smell of fresh pine and something so distinctly Robin waft through her senses and fill her being._

…

She holds that very same t-shirt in her hands, and the memory brings on a plethora of emotions she isn't ready to deal with. She lifts the shirt up to her nose and inhales, her eyes falling shut as his scent lingers and invades her senses.

Without thought, she pulls the shirt over her body, closing her eyes and imagining that he's the one holding her now, imagines him soothing the pain away.

Only he is not, and she's left with nothing but his t-shirt to find comfort with.

But even the smell of forest that lingers on the piece of fabric can't be a balm on the aching wound of her heart.

* * *

 **a/n: Yes, italics are flashbacks. Thoughts? Next top, Robin! :)**


	5. 5: Nothing

**A/N: Yeah okay, another update even if no one's interested. Thought i'd just post and you know, whatever. Here we go. Unbeta-ed forever and ever, mistakes are mine, can't say the same for Robin and Regina tho.  
**

 **for my baby panini, Shannon (RegalPixidust) who is my fave.**

* * *

 _Nothing_ **  
**

 _"_ _If she sees how much I'm hurting, she'll take me back for sure."_

It's been a bloody month.

Still his heart aches for her, and there hasn't been a moment in which he hadn't wanted to hold her in his arms, to bury his nose in her tresses and inhale her scent and let her envelope him. He misses her. God he misses her so much, he feels like a part of his missing, and doesn't know where he's left it.

Well, no, he knows where, he just doesn't know how to get it back, because when he'd given his heart to her, he'd given it all and now there is no way he can take it back from her. She owns him, all of him, heart, body and soul.

And though they said that time heals all wounds, he doesn't think his wounds would ever heal, not without her.

" _You ought to get your life back together,"_ Killian Jones had told him one day after he'd come and visited him upon finding out about him and Regina. They had been friends for a long, long time, and Killian had been there when he'd first started falling for Regina, had first saw a glimpse of the lady who always wore black and had an unmatched sadness in her beautiful brown eyes. One that Robin had wanted to take away, one that Robin put right back.

" _I don't have one,"_ he'd replied with despondency so clear and so transparent in his voice and blue eyes. He feels like the dead, feels like death itself. " _She left."_

Killian, who knows exactly what he's feeling and can sympathize but can no longer empathize because of the new love he's found in Emma Swan, had patted his shoulder and gave him a concerned look. If he'd thought that Robin was being crazy, he made no mention of it, and had instead made plans to go to their local, the Irish pub that they've frequented over the years on their boys night out.

And that is exactly where he is about to go now, having been dragged out on his ass by John and Will, his two other mates. He dreads it, really, not being in the mood for anything but the company of his misery, but here he is, and there he goes.

He orders a glass of scotch, steering so far away from whisky because it hurts to even think about drinking it now, all the memories of her flooding his mind whenever he does. He looks at the bar longingly, thinking of the time he'd first met her here in this very same pub, as she'd been dragged by her friends and she'd caught his eyes and at that moment he thought he'd start believing in soul mates and love at first sight.

 **…**

 _He'd been sitting in this exact same spot for hours now, his friends having given up on him. It had been a hard day, a long one in fact, and really, he could have done without all the stress this day had afforded him—it isn't like he isn't already bitter about this day, as it is._

 _It's just one of those days when he thinks of the life he's led, and the despondency creeps up on him, and he thinks of his friends and how they have gotten their lives together, while he stays alone, grieving the loss of his wife. Though he's gone and moved on from the tragedy, he still feels so keenly the loss. She'd been his first love, and he'd have walked through hell to bring her back…only, that isn't at all possible and he finds himself needing to get his shit together and continue on with life because whilst hers have ended, his hadn't, and well…that's how it goes, doesn't it?_

 _His eyes scan the entirety of the pub as he sips his drink, his eyes landing on the entrance as the door makes a creaking sound. In comes three women, a young brunette who seems to be as pale as snow white, with her pixie cut hair, and looking like a fish out of the water in this place, a tiny blonde follows her in, and she is chatting animatedly with the woman who only looks at the blond, unamused, as she follows in behind the two others. His heart stops and his breath hitches and he feels as though there is a part of him that detaches from himself and flees her side, but that's just ridiculous, isn't it? That shit only happens in movies._

 _The blonde looks at his general direction and he averts his eyes, a tiny bit embarrassed and having been caught staring. But the brunette, the one in the sensible pantsuit and red blazer had caught his eyes and made his heart skip a beat for reasons unknown to him._

 _He sits on that same spot for a bit while longer, staring at his drink. When he looks up, he finds the brunette looking at him oddly, averting her eyes when his gaze catches hers. The blonde snickers beside her, and the brunette only bites down on her lip, as the other brunette seems to be saying something he can't read from here. He watches as the gorgeous brunette takes her leave but not before rolling her eyes at her two companions._

 _It doesn't take long after that for him to gravitate towards the bar, to get himself a refill. He really shouldn't, he's had enough, but the alcohol numbs away the pain and his brain._

 _"_ _Rough night eh?" the bartender asks as he pours him another glass of scotch, looking at him sympathetically._

 _Robin clenches his jaw, hating pity with every fibre of his being. But he says nothing and only giving the bartender a nod. He looks away and finds himself staring at the brunette from the table across him, looking at him oddly. She stands at the other end of the bar, her blonde friend right beside her. He gives her a stiff nod, but does nothing, not even as his feet seem to want to move towards her and ask her for her name. Or number, or out on a date._

 _But no,_ _ **stop**_ _. He can't, not on this day._

 _He turns to walk away, drink in hand, when he feels someone grab his arm, and he turns back around to find the blonde grasping his elbow._

 _"_ _Hey," she says with a smile, and he looks down on her hand still grasping his elbow, making her take her hand back away quickly. He lifts his head to find the brunette behind the blonde, looking embarrassed, her cheeks flushed delicately. She isn't looking at him, and she's biting that lip again. "I'm Rose Bell, and this is my friend, Regina Mills."_

 _"_ _Robin Locksley," he says, offering his free hand to them. "Can I buy you ladies a drink?" he offers, because it's the polite thing to do, and not because he's hitting on them, or_ _ **her.**_

 _Rose grins, but Regina shakes her head, and glares at her friend sternly._

 _"_ _No thank you," she says, her voice sounding low but honeyed. "I apologize for my friend's brazenness, it seems she's forgotten how to act like an adult."_

 _"_ _It's alright," Robin says._

 _"_ _And no, it's okay, I don't drink scotch," Regina continues, nodding at him. "And we should leave."_

 _"_ _Maybe next time then," he says then, not really sure what else to do._

 _Regina only nods, clearly not intending to have that next time, and then she's bidding him goodbye, whisking her friend politely away._

 _For the rest of the night, he is flooded by thoughts of her eyes and her face, and it seems wrong to be thinking of her, to be thinking of pursuing her, even, though that is exactly what he wants to do._

 _When he next sees her, he is on his way out and so is she and she's waiting for her friends just outside the pub. He walks up to her, gathering his courage around him, and telling himself that there is no time to lose. Maybe, there is something to say about the way his heart thumps with a staccato beat whenever she's around, and there's that instant connection he just can't erase._

 _"_ _Hey," he greets her, obviously startling her as she jumps. She turns around to meet him, her crossed features melting into a softer look when their eyes meet. "I'm sorry."_

 _She waves her hand dismissively. "No worries," she mutters, averting her eyes._

 _"_ _I was just wondering…" he begins, his nerves jumping and his heart thumping so loudly he thinks it might burst out of his chest. "I…"_

 _"_ _What?"_

 _"_ _I want to get to know you," he blurts out, and god what an idiot._

 _She smirks at him, finally raising her eyes to look at him. She shakes her head. "Do you now?" she asks, teasing._

 _He nods, and god he feels so embarrassed, it's ridiculous. "You still owe me that drink," he says._

 _She smiles shyly this time, her teeth sinking on to her bottom lip. "I suppose I do," she answers._

 _…_ _._

She'd given him her number that night, and he'd asked her if she really was going to entrust something so valuable to a common stranger like himself. She'd smirked at him, called him a thief in disguise, but had told him that he can't steal what's been given to him, winking at him, making his heart race even more if that was at all possible.

"Man, you're so far away," he hears Will's voice cut through his thoughts, his mind returning to the present even through the drunken haze. "Come back down to earth."

"I miss her," Robin slurs, his fist falling to the table, jostling the glasses and making the alcohol spill onto the table. "I miss her so bloody much, and she doesn't even care." He lifts the glass onto his lips and takes another long gulp of his drink.

"Robin," John warns. He takes the glass from him, "You've had enough."

Robin scoffs and snatches the drink once more. "No, not nearly enough," he says. "She left, mate, there's no way I can deal with that without these."

"You're far worse than you've been when Marian…" Will begins to say, but stops midsentence.

Robin chuckles bitterly. "When Marian died?" he continues caustically. "Well, at least there was an end to that, but this…how do you end this? What if she finds someone else? How am I going to live through that?"

He'd cry if he only had any more tears left.

Suddenly, he stands from his seat and makes his way to the door, his friends scrambling to follow him but he's quick, even in his drunk state, and they are a good few feet behind as he makes his way to her new apartment. He won't have found out where she lives if Mary Margaret hadn't let it slip when she'd visited him one day. And he'd kept that information stocked, hidden away, until now.

Every drunk step leads him right to her door.

He doesn't know how he does it, but do it he does, and he stands in front of her apartment, pounding against the door loudly.

"Regina!" he yells, "Come out, Regina. I know you're in there."

The apartment is pitch black, no lights are on, and she'd be asleep by now, but his intoxicated mind pays that no attention as he keeps pounding away on the door, and calling out her name.

"Robin, mate, you have to stop," Killian says, grasping his arm and trying to pull him back. It had taken them a while to follow him all the way here.

"REGINA," he continues, "COME OUT AND FACE ME."

There is a shuffling from behind the door but the lights remain off, and Regina remains on the other side, and he's left to wonder if she's even there at all, if she can hear him.

"I know you're in there," he says, his voice going softer now, as his forehead falls against the door, his fists flattening against the surface. He feels tears prickle his eyes. "I know you're in there, love, please, please come and talk to me." And errant tear falls down his cheek. "Please Regina, come back to me. I don't know what to do without you."

 _Nothing, nothing but silence._

 _"_ Come out and face me and tell me that we're really over," he begs even when he knows that it is, they _are_ over. "Tell me you don't feel the same and I'll leave you alone. Tell me to go to hell, tell me you don't want to be with me anymore…tell me, tell me you love me, please, because I still love you."

He knocks once more, waits for her…but _nothing_.

"I just need you back," he says pleadingly, throwing pride out the window, he doesn't need pride, he needs her. "I don't know how to live without you anymore."

Still, _nothing._

"Regina, please," he begs one last time before his friends are tearing him from the door. He looks back at the door, waits for her to say something, anything, waits for her to fling the door open and berate him for being selfish. Something. _Anything._

But the door remains closed, and all he's got is nothing.

 **A/n: Flashbacks are in italics. Thoughts?**


	6. 6: One Last Time

**I have an exam in three hours but this jumping at me and I just can't help it. Here, have some pain. Just kidding, have some OutlawQueen hurting. No but really, have some OQ Modern AU!**

 **Unbeta-ed till the end of time, yeah?**

 **I'd like to thank my beautiful smut sister Jen for her input on this chapter :)**

 **Hope you all had a wonderful, wonderful thanksgiving with your families (for those who celebrate!)**

 _Hope you all enjoy!_

* * *

 **Chapter Six**

 _One Last Time_

 _"One last time, I need to be the one who takes you home"_

She wakes, rather abruptly, to the sound of someone pounding at her front door. At first it scares her, half afraid that she's going to be murdered in her own apartment. Sometimes, like this time, she wishes she still has Robin. It'd be less scary, less painful.

The lights are still out, and she remains lying in bed, listening to the sound of her door, whilst her own heart pounded in her chest. And then she hears it, hears _him_ , and her breath hitches, her heart stops, and the tears gather in her own eyes at the sound of the voice.

She misses him.

"Regina!" he yells, "Come out, Regina. I know you're in there."

Of course, she's going to be right inside her apartment, she thinks as she rolls over and glances at the clock. It's three in the morning. She bites her lip and clenches her fists. Why would he do this? Isn't their breakup painful enough?

Still he yells for her to come out, to face him, but how? He sounds drunk, really, really drunk. And it breaks her heart because no matter how much she wants to go out there and get back together with him…she can't, not yet. He is miserable, and so is she, but turning to alcohol is never going to be the solution, especially since it's the very reason they broke up in the first place. If she takes him back now, when he hasn't even found the control to stop, hasn't found the pieces of himself he's lost through the years, then it would end the same. Only this time, they are going to be ruined, destroyed to the point of no return, no repair.

And could she really, really, do that—break them like that?

She could go out now, face him. But can she really go out there and watch him break again? No, she really can't. But she can't say this far away from him, and so, she climbs out of bed and pads quietly to the door, without turning on the lights. She hears him say things, beg her to come out, and her heart breaks in so many pieces, shatters until they're nothing but mere dust. He might as well just rip her heart out while he's at it.

"Tell me you don't feel the same and I'll leave you alone. Tell me to go to hell, tell me you don't want to be with me anymore…tell me, tell me you love me, please, because I still love you.," she hears him say, then a pause, a beat, as her forehead falls to the door, and her hand lays against the surface whilst tears fall down her eyes down her cheeks.

She tries to muffle her sobs, the walls aren't very thick, and she knows that he knows that she's just right there, behind the closed door. He knows that right now, only a thin piece of wood are separating them, and she could be there, outside with him, but she can't. They are far too damaged to try and fix each other right now.

"I just need you back," he says pleadingly, throwing pride out the window, he doesn't need pride, he needs her. "I don't know how to live without you anymore."

She wants to rip the door open and run to him, hold him and just stay in his arms forever. God, how she wants to.

"Regina, please," he begs one last time and she could feel the last of her control leaving her body, her hand encircling the cold brass knob now, and she's just about to damn everything to hell.

But she hears his friends tearing him away from her door, hears them try to console him as he blubbers in his drunken slur, and she grips the knob tighter—not sure if it's a curse or a blessing in disguise that they've managed to tear Robin away from the door before she could open it and do something stupid.

She feels her heart fall to her stomach, feels the tears wet her cheeks as they pour from her eyes like a storm that just won't stop. She could feel that clenching in her chest, and she finds it hard to breathe as she slides down the door and falls apart.

 **…**

She shouldn't be here.

She definitely doesn't want to be—she's not in any mood to party, not without Robin by her side—but it's Mary Margaret's engagement party, and she can't say no to her. Besides, Regina had been partially responsible for this. Robin used to live in the same apartment complex as David, Mary Margaret's fiancé, before they'd moved in together in the place where Robin lives now. Regina had introduced them, and they'd hit it off after a while of bantering like cats and dogs—and now they are about to be married. And while Regina is happy for them, she cannot partake in such a party when her own heart is breaking.

She also knows Mary Margaret would be very understanding if she can't go, but upset nonetheless, and really, there's enough animosity and antagonism to go around in Regina's life that she doesn't need any more.

So, she really can't _not_ go, even if she doesn't really want to.

She just dreads having to face Robin, because surely she'd be there. He and David are good friends, he'd surely be invited. Maybe he won't come, knowing she'd be invited as well. But that doesn't seem likely. So Regina just needs to suck it up, grin and bear it.

She arrives at the venue a bit later than she'd wanted to, but she'd spent most of her time in bed, crying at almost everything she's uncovered that reminded her of Robin. It is inevitable that it happens, she's spent six years with him, blissfully believing that they were meant to end up together—and there had been too many memories between them.

Pushing the door open and trying not to squirm so much in her new tight-fitting back dress and high heels (she's spent more days than she could count in her pantsuits and lounge clothes lately because she's been too depressed to work up a zipper). She spots Mary Margaret, standing with David, greeting guests, and the surprise and appreciation that crosses Mary Margaret's face makes her smile a little.

"Sorry I'm late," she tells them once she's reached them. She kisses Mary Margaret's cheek, and then leans up to do the same to David, who grins at her.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, teasingly. "You aren't invited."

Regina laughs and looks at David with a mock pout. "You wound me, I came to give you a gift," she says.

"You didn't have to," Mary Margaret says, with affection. "We didn't need any gift."

Regna shakes her head and smiles at her friend, before she fishes out her gift for the couple from her purse. "Here, my gift to you," she says, handing the gift to them.

"Thank you," Mary Margaret says, taking the gift and handing it to David who wanders away from them to put it away. Once he's gone, Mary Margaret loops her arm around Regina's. "Are you okay?"

Regina bites down her lip and looks at Mary Margaret. Is she? She doesn't know. "Depends," she says softly. "Is he here?" She has been trying to look for him since she's arrived, craning her neck in every direction.

Mary Margaret nods solemnly. "Yes, he is," she says with a hint of embarrassment to her voice. But why should she? It's her party. "He's outside, I think, with the rest of his merry men. We couldn't not invite him. He's friends with David."

Regina turns to Mary Margaret and smiles sadly, taking the brunette's hand in hers. "M, just because we're over doesn't mean you'd have to take sides. He's David's friend, and he's your friend. You don't have to make allowances just because I can't yet bear to see him."

Mary Margaret nods slowly. "You still love him, huh?" she asks, but it's a pointless question because everyone, including Robin himself, knows the answer.

Regina looks at Mary Margaret with glassy eyes, and bites her lip in an effort to suppress her tears. "I don't think I'll ever stop," she admits gently. "I think I always will."

 **…**

She stands outside the restaurant with a glass of champagne in hand. She'd have taken whisky, it certainly is a lot stronger, but that drink reminds her of him, and really, it's enough that she knows he's a few feet away, somewhere inside the room but she still can't reach him.

They've seen each other hours ago, had looked at each other dead in the eyes as she walked up to the bar and he stood there, nursing a drink of his own. He's looked at her with longing in his eyes and she just about melted right then and there so she'd made a mad dash to the ladies room, leaving him behind. She's been hiding from him ever since, unable to face him, unable to face her heart break.

She hears the door slide and open from behind her, but she doesn't turn. It's probably just one of Mary Margaret's many other drunken guests, looking out here to find a place to make out, or whatever. She and Robin would certainly have, were they still together.

"You look stunning," she hears someone say from behind her, and she knows, she knows it's him.

Her heart starts trip hammering inside her chest, and she almost drops her champagne flute, as she licks her dry lips and swallows. Slowly, she turns around to find him, looking at her intensely. He still looks handsome, those blue eyes still captivating albeit the fact that the light in them seems to have gone out, and he looks miserable, sallow.

"Thank you," she tells him softly, averting her eyes. She can't look at him for so long and not melt.

"I miss you," he breathes out, pausing abruptly as though he hasn't meant to blurt that out. She turns back her gaze on him and finds him looking remorseful. "I'm sorry."

She shakes her head. "It's alright," she whispers breathily, taken aback by the force in which his words hit her. "I missed you too." She could just kick herself right now. The words are out before she's thought them through, and there's no way to take that back now.

"Regina," he gasps, covering the distance between them and grasping her elbow.

She shakes her head once more and places her hand on his chest, a half hearted attempt to push him away, to make him stay—she doesn't even know anymore.

"Robin," she breathes out, watching as he leans in closer, aiming for her lips. She turns her head away just in time, and he catches her cheek. She can't let him kiss her. She won't be able to walk away, and she has every intention of doing so—for their own good.

His lips linger on her skin, as his hand slide to her waist and he holds her close to him, not saying a word, just holding her.

"Robin," she whispers again, but he only tightens his hold on her, letting his head drop to her shoulders, turning just enough to bury his nose to the crook of her neck.

"Just give me a minute," he pleads. "A minute where I could just pretend that we're not in this situation. I know it's my fault, and I know I have no right to be forgiven for everything I put you through, but I just…please pretend for now that you still love me, and we're not broken."

She does. She still loves him. But what good would it do now to tell him? She'll only end up hurting him. So she remains silent, and stays in his arms, holds him to her, until a minute has passed, and another, and another, until they don't know how long they're standing there, holding on the remains of the love they've once shared.

It's still there, big, enormous, but tattered, broken.

She pulls away from him and apologizes, for everything she supposes, before she disappears back inside.

 **…**

It's late, really late when she decides to call it a night and go home. Actually, she is supposed to go home a few hours back, but she's seen Robin walk back to the bar and ask for drink after drink after drink. She'd have left if she's sure someone would fend for him, but Killian had left, and so had Will. John is meant to stay, but he'd had a call from his wife and had to leave, apprehensively, only being appeased when Regina had offered to take Robin home, herself.

And now it's time. Robin has drunk enough. He's drunk enough for him to not remember anything from this night, anyway.

She stalks over to him, where he's arguing with the bartender.

"Give me my damn keys, now," Robin says to the bartender angrily.

The bartender shakes his head no, and says that he can't, under any circumstances, give his keys.

"I can't let you go have an accident," the bartender adds.

"It doesn't matter," Robin argues. "The woman I love left me, didn't you know? I'm dead inside."

His words make Regina's heart stutter, stop, then break. She can't stand that he's like this, but what else can she do?

"I'll take him home," Regina offers to the bartender, opening her palm for him to hand her the keys.

"Really? Can you handle him?" the bartender says with apprehension. Robin, despite being only a few feet taller than her, is rather muscular.

"I'm the woman who left him," she snaps, clicking her tongue and giving the young bartender a glare. "I think I can handle him. Now give me the damn keys and help me bring him to his car."

The bartender nods and follows.

 **…**

The apartment is just as she's left it, except it's littered now with bottles and bottles of alcohol and some takeaway that he seems to have not disposed of. She helps him to the bedroom they once shared, as he babbles all the while.

"Are you staying, my love?" he slurs as he stumbles on the way to the bedroom.

She doesn't answer, only helps him remove his shoes and clothes until he's down to his boxers. She tries very hard not to be affected, but damnit, that body has been responsible for so many spectacular orgasms, and had been responsible in making her feel warm and secure before. She helps him down the bed, pressing a kiss on his forehead before turning around to leave.

She feels him grasp her hand and pull, so she turns.

"Stay with me," he begs, looking at her with unshed tears. His eyes are bloodshot, and red rimmed and he looks so tired. "Let me hold you while we sleep, please, Regina."

And really, she cannot find it in her to deny him one more time, so she gives in, slipping off her shoes and groaning in relief. She climbs into the bed next to her, feeling its soft sheets and being transported back to time when everything had seemed so perfect.

She feels him lower the zipper on the back of her dress and she panics when she fees him slip it off of her body, leaving her in her panties. She thinks he's going to try and have drunken sex with her and she's just about ready to spring out of bed, when he pulls her closer and lets his hand rest against her bare skin, his nose burying against the crook of her neck. He inhales deeply, as if committing her scent to memory.

"Stay with me forever," he mumbles one last time before he is being pulled under and he falls promptly to sleep.

She feels the tears slip her eyes and she bites her lip to stop the sobs from escaping her lips. She can't stay away from him, not when she loves him like this—so much, too much, it hurts.

She puts her arms around him, pushing him closer to her.

"I love you, Robin," she says, because she does, she still does.

She'll stay for tonight.

* * *

 **Sorry? :(**


	7. 7: How Am I Supposed to Live Without You

_Thank you for all your wonderful reviews! You are all so amazing. I know I haven't been able to reply to all the reviews, and I'm sorry but I hope you like this one. I made a promise to write angst solely today so check my other oneshot for #AngstDay2k15 :)_

 _We're turning a new leaf :) so here we go! :) Enjoy!_

 **This is for Geli who I've tortured so much so far, love you bub! :)**

* * *

 **Chapter Seven**

 _How am I supposed to live without you?_

 _"Didn't come here to break down, it's just a dream of mine is coming to an end"_

Robin's mind is made up.

He needs to do this, he knows he does. If he even has a shot at getting her back, then he needs to get his shit together and try to pick up the pieces of himself he hadn't realized he's lost. She is right, he supposes, he's not the man he was once, and it's time he tries to look for that man and reconcile who he is now to who he used to be.

After all, he can't just keep dreaming of having her in his arms like he had two weeks ago after Mary Margaret and David's party. He's starting to lose his mind he thinks, if he smells her everywhere, even in his sheets when he wakes up without her, his arms bare and empty.

She won't have come home with him that night. There had been no traces of her in the morning after all. He must have dreamt that—and now it's time for that to become reality. He needs to make that his reality once more.

He doesn't really know anymore how he's supposed to live without her.

So he's made up his mind: he's going back to England for awhile, away from everything that is breaking him, perhaps study for a while again so he could get a decent job, get some help with his drinking problem, and then come back to New York clean and sober, ready to woo Regina (that is if she hasn't found someone else by then, but that thought depresses him, so he curbs that out of his mind).

But first, he needs to tell her…needs to say goodbye, if he ever learns how to do that, let her know how much he loves her, let her know that he's doing this not only for himself but for her as well, because she deserves more than just what he's become.

He puts it off, at first, for a few days. He can't face her, cannot say goodbye to her once more. He tries to prepare himself for the pain, but really, there is no way to prepare for this. He's going to lose her, one way or the other, has actually lost her a long time ago, and he can't…saying goodbye makes it feel more final, more real.

After three days of telling himself he's going to do it, he finally does it, dragging his feet to Regina's new apartment, on a beautiful Saturday morning. He is meant to leave the next day, and he hadn't really meant to leave it too late, but he couldn't bring himself to do it

He knocks on the door gently, mindful of the fact that the last time he's been here, he'd make a colossal idiot of himself. The door opens and reveals a tired looking Regina, still dressed in her pajamas. She looks up at him in surprise, and then in apprehension.

"Hi," he says, feeling lame as he fidgets and shuffles his feet awkwardly.

"Robin," she breathes out, surprise coloring her voice. She is still looking at him, and he doesn't really know what to do or say. "What are you doing here?"

"Hi, Regina," he says again, wanting nothing more now than for the ground to swallow him whole. "My mind told me I was meant to stay away, but my heart took me here."

"Robin," she utters in a soft voice, looking like this is torture for her, and perhaps it is, because it is for him too. She looks at him with furrowed brows, her lips pursing. She sidesteps and lets him in—far better to have this out without making a scene outside her new apartment. "You can't keep doing this. I know it hurts, it hurts me too, but we can't keep doing this to each other," she adds once they're both inside. Her voice is tinted with a thinly-veiled desperation and god, how he wants to put her out of her misery. "It's torture."

"I'm sorry," he says as he watches her stand a few feet away from him. His heart aches to hold her, to never let go, but she's right, he needs to fix himself first. "I know you asked me to stay away, I know I've screwed up. And everyday I'm living to regret everything that I've done to drive you away from my life." He pauses as he breathes and tries to suppress his tears from falling. "I try everyday to stay as far away from you as I possibly could." He walks over to her, bridging the physical distance between them—the emotional distance is enough.

"Then what are you doing here?" she asks, looking at him, puzzled.

He cups her face in his hands and leans in to steal her lips in a kiss but not before he mumbles, "Today is not one of those days," against her lips.

When they pull away from each other, they are both breathing heavily, panting. Her eyes are closed as his forehead falls against hers, his breath shallow and quick, hitting her face at every exhale. She is clinging to him, arms around his neck whilst his loops around her waist.

"I love you," he whispers against her skin, unable to stop the words from spilling from his lips. "I love you so much that I don't know how to be whole without you. But I know you deserve so much more than me." He pauses as he pulls away from her, stepping back as he does the thing that he never though he's ever going to have to do. "I never meant to hurt you, Regina. I'd sooner rip my own heart from my chest than do that."

She looks at him, tears gathering in her eyes as she clenches her fists at her side. She doesn't say anything, only looks at him, through half-hooded eyes. They hold so much pain and it hurts him so much that he's responsible for them.

He never thought he'd ever have to live without her, but here they are now.

"I'm here to tell you that I'm setting you free," he says in a whisper as the gut-wrenching pain fills him and spreads to his very soul. He can't believe he's doing this, but he is. "I'm letting you go. We were happy once, and I took that away from us, and while I might never be happy again without you…I want you to find that happiness, and love again."

She stands before him frozen, unable to so much as move. Her lips are parted, in shock, in pain, he can't tell, but the tears finally fall from her eyes, and down her cheek. She bites her lower lip now, as he reaches out to wipe her tears from her cheeks with the pads of his thumb.

"I want you to be happy, even if it's not with me," he says finally before stepping in close to her once more and kisses her lips, one last time, before he goes, even as he wonders how he's supposed to live without her now. "I'll always love you, Regina, even if it has to be from afar."

She lifts her eyes to look at him, disbelief clearly written on them. "Robin," she whispers, her voice broken.

He _is_ just as broken.

"This is goodbye," he says before he lets her go and turns away from her, walking out of the door and leaving her behind, with his heart right there at her feet.

 **…**

Robin glances around the airport, his heart thundering fast and hard. He's not waiting for her, no, or at least that's what he tells himself. She isn't coming, he knows that, doesn't even know he's leaving today. He hasn't told her when he's said goodbye to her the day before, hadn't told her that he's leaving or that he's coming back. If he is, then he is, and whatever he might come back to—well, he'll just have to face it, now won't he?

"You should have told her," John says as he stands beside Robin. He looks at his friend sadly. "She would have been here."

Robin shakes his head—not entirely sure she would be, but if she is, if she would then: "I don't want to burden her with it," he says. "She doesn't have to feel like she needs to be here. We've broken up, mate. I need to accept that."

"Still," John insists, but says no further, as Robin just clamps his mouth shut and crosses his arms against his chest defensively.

It hurts too much already.

Overhead, they hear the announcement for Robin's flight, the gates are open, they are boarding. Robin turns to his friends gathered around him: Killian, David, Will and John, they've always had his back, and he knows he'll miss them so.

One by one, they pull him in for a brotherly hug, extracting a promise for him to come back, one that he dodges, because really, after what he'd pulled yesterday, it doesn't seem likely now. He wants to be with Regina and is actually doing this partially for her, but he's let her go, hasn't he?

"I don't deserve to have a proper goodbye?" he hears _her_ voice say as he pulls away from John, who'd crushed him a tight bear hug.

Robin turns and finds his love looking at him furiously, tears falling down her cheeks as she stands there, barely a feet away, dressed in her jeans and white t-shirt, wearing her boots and black coat. Her eyes are bloodshot and red-rimmed, and there are dark circles under her eyes, her hair is in perfect disarray, but she looks so beautiful to him, so breathtaking.

"Regina," he breathes out in surprise. Who told her?

"I had to hear from Mary Margaret that you're leaving?" she asks as she strides purposefully over to stand in front of him. From behind them, David groans—MM can never keep a secret. She looks him dead in the eye. "You don't have the balls to tell me that you're leaving when you come to my apartment and tell me you're setting me free?"

She is angry and getting even more by the second.

He looks at her hopelessly. "I'm sorry, Regina," he tries to explain, but she cuts him off.

"You couldn't have told me?!" she asks again, her finger now jabbing at his chest as she cries in front of him. "Then go! Leave me. Leave for England and don't ever come back."

He takes her hand in his and tilts her chin so their eyes meet. "I'm doing this for you," he says, finally able to say what he should have yesterday, "because I love you and I want to be the man you fell in love with. I want to be whole again so I could offer you more than what I have given you the past few months. You deserve as much."

She throws her arms around him and sobs against his chest. "You can't do it here? With me? Together?" she asks desperately. "If you want us back together, if that is what would take to get you to stay, then we're together again, we've never broken up."

"Love,' he begins as he pulls away just enough to look at her face. "I have every intention of winning you back, I just need to get myself together. To heal," he explains.

She shakes her head. "Then do it here," she asks. "Why do you have to be on the other side of the world?"

"Because I can't heal if I'm here, and neither can you," he says softly, knowing that no matter how much it hurts to be apart, he needs to do this for them. "We need the time apart, you're right about that but we won't have it if we live barely five miles away from each other."

"Robin," she whispers. "Please stay." She clutches his shirt in her hands tightly, like she never wants him to go.

"Regina," he breathes out as they hear the announcement overhead again, calling for the passengers of Robin's flight. He wraps his arms around her waist tightly, leaning down to kiss her again, softly, gently, passionately, pouring all the feelings he couldn't put to words. "I—," he tries to say but she cuts him off with a kiss.

"I know," she whispers back as she clings to him once more. "Hurry back to me."

He nods, lets his forehead fall against hers. "You know I will," he promises, holding her close and inhaling her scent as if this is to be the last time. "Wait for me. I'll come back to you. And then we can start again and make all the dreams we've had come true." She nods at this. He smiles and continues, his heart hopeful. "Don't fall in love while I'm gone."

She chuckles through her tears as she clings to him more. "Silly," she says even as she chokes from her tears. "I'll always choose you."

And so will he.

* * *

 **A/N: there, that wasn't so bad, was it? :)**


	8. 8: Only Reminds Me of You

**Chapter Eight**

 ** _Only Reminds Me Of You_**

 _"_ _I've tried to run from your side, but each place I hide, it only reminds me of you"_

It's been a dreadful few weeks since Robin had left for his motherland, and she feels the loss of him so keenly. Of course, logically she knows that they have been apart for a while now, her own doing no less, but it's one thing to know that he's just across the city, and to know that he's halfway across the globe. The latter is more depressing.

She can't blame him. Sometimes, she feels like she's the one who has pushed him deeper into the clutches of depression. She's the one who broke it off with him after all. Of course, at the time she justified it with wanting him to get better, and honestly, she still feels the same now, but she hadn't meant to push him that far away. She supposes, even when she's trying to be far away from him, she still needs to be sure that he isn't going to be _too_ far. Selfish, no doubt, but love isn't really all that giving, now is it?

She heaves a sigh as she sinks on the couch. She's been waiting for his call all day. Ever since he's left, they've begun to try and rebuild the bridges they've broken when they broke up, and they had been calling each other, just checking in, slowly trying to ease their way into each other's lives. It had been easy, familiar, but still new and exciting. It almost felt like they are getting to know each other for the first time.

She lifts her hand and twirls the ring on her finger—the one she's taken off the night she broke up with him and had taken to wearing again when he left. It's a simple gold band with three emerald stones sitting side by side. It was their promise ring. She'd kept it.

She'd actually found it on the coffee table before she had left that night, she knows he must have been the one to put it there after it had been left lying on the ground that night when she'd thrown it at him, and she'd picked it up and took it with her. It might be the last piece of him that she could take with her, aside from the memories that feels like daggers to take out and remember when they attack her mind at night.

She can still remember the exact moment he'd given it to her, can remember her fast beating heart, can remember the tears pressing on her eyes when she'd seen the ring, can remember his vibrant blue eyes looking at her with fear and love and promise, can remember his trembling voice and her shaking hands, can remember that moment he'd slid the ring on her finger. She remembers it all, remembers his words to her, the promises he can no longer keep.

" _This is not an engagement ring,"_ he'd told her when she'd gasped and looked at him with teary eyes. She'd asked him without words what it had meant, and he'd seen the question in her eyes (because that's how he is, he is in sync with her, knows what she wants and needs long before she'd say it, long before she even knows she does), and he'd answered her untold question. " _Well, not yet anyway. Not until we're ready,"_ he'd said, and she had nodded, agreeing with him. " _But this is something of the same nature—a promise, a symbol of my commitment to you, of my never ending devotion and love."_

She hadn't known what to say then, her words had left her, and her heart had been in her throat, making it very hard to speak. Her tears were coursing down her cheeks, unheeded, and she'd been so emotional…after all, they'd been together for more than two years at the time, and it wasn't as though she'd been expecting a marriage proposal, or she'd questioned his commitment to her, but his gesture would have and had not gone unappreciated.

" _I want you to look at it and know that I'm here, that you are never alone, and there will always be this one person who will always support you, will love you the most,"_ he continues then as he looks at her earnestly, his clammy hands holding hers. " _I want you to look at it and remember my promise, and that is, that even as the world fails you, even when everything is falling apart, I'll stand there by you, and with you, and we will rebuild our own world…together."_

She had been reduced into an emotional mess by then, her sobs racking her body as he slid the ring onto her finger, leaning into her and sealing his promise with a kiss. She'd kissed him back with so much ardour, and the night had ended with them celebrating in their own little bubble, making love to each other until the sun had risen.

He'd whispered his love for her, as he held her cooling body, both waiting for sleep to take over them, and he'd whispered his visions of what their future might look like, with her whispering that as long as they had it together, she'd be happy. He'd kissed her, and held her, and she doesn't remember all of her dreams but she knows they had been sweet, her smile had not even left her lips come morning.

It all seems so far away now…so long ago.

And she's forced to a life without him now, she'd let him go, but he's still the one that fills her mind, all the time, every day, at every waking minute. Even if he says he's coming back, sometimes she wonders if it would still be the same when he comes back. They would both be different by then, made different by the circumstances, so she isn't so sure.

But she keeps hope.

She keeps hope because she doesn't think she can actually live without him—not when every part of her screams for him and every place, every move, reminds her of him.

She sighs once more as she feels the tears prick her eyes. She misses him, misses him so much it's almost ridiculous.

But he holds her heart, thousands of miles away, and there isn't anything she could do about that.

She looks at the ring and slides it in her finger. He made a promise, and they are being tested right now, but she holds on to that promise. She'll keep the ring until he comes back and hold on to the promise entailed by that little piece of jewelry.

She'd keep it with the hopes that maybe one day, it would find its way to her finger once more and she wishes that maybe on that time, she won't ever have to take it out again.

* * *

 **A/N:** _Sorry this was so short, this is just a transition, mostly so is the next one. So there. Also, I'm all dried out from all the Uni stuff and the other fics I had to write, so I'm really very sorry! Let me know what you think!_


	9. 9: Need You Now

**Chapter Nine**

 ** _Need You Now_**

 _"_ _It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now. Said I wouldn't call, but I've lost control, and I need you now. And I don't know how I can do without, I just need you now."_

London is as gloomy and as grey as it usually is, usually have been. Being back here after years of living in the States brings him back to the past, makes him nostalgic and melancholic. But it also makes him homesick, makes him long for the cold Manhattan air, for the busy streets and worn out pavements. He even misses the smell. But most of all, he misses _her,_ misses Regina, misses the feeling he always has around her, misses his home.

He makes good on his promise, he's been trying to get better for her, has been trying to get help. He's joined a group to help with his drinking problem and has even started to go counseling with Dr. Hopper. He's found a job, a part time English teacher at a local school and at an art gallery where he oversees and maintains the paintings—it's boring but it does pay his rent, and right now that's enough. He has also taken some night classes, starting on that Master's Degree he's been going on and on about taking for years. He's finally done it and had told Regina the moment he's enrolled himself in his classes.

He's heard from Regina of course, they've talked some since he's got here, but he does try his best to stay away, to try and find himself, but it's hard to stay too far away from her, not when his heart still beats for her. And so he calls her sometimes, has in fact called her some the in the past few weeks that he's been here.

Her voice is a balm to his aching wound and he finds courage and will to get back home sooner because of her, for her. He does love her so much, loves her more than he could ever describe and he feels the hole in his heart grow bigger and bigger as days pass by without her by his side. He tries to console himself with the thought that, someday, soon, he will be right by her side, a better man—one that she deserves.

But sometimes, the pain becomes too unbearable, his heart aching too much as he sleeps in his bed at night, not by her side, a million miles away from her. Most days he sleeps on the middle of the bed, not strong enough to face the fact that she's no longer there to share the space with him. He thinks that the bed is too big and too empty, and it is, it really is, and then he finds himself crying his heart out at the thought, until he falls asleep, tears streaming down his eyes.

Whoever said that boys don't cry are right, they don't—but men do, and he is just about enough of a man still to cry, to admit that the pain of losing her makes his heart ache and his soul be ripped apart.

Sometimes, Robin tries to console himself with staring at pictures of her in his phone, tries to memorize the face already engraved in his heart and mind. He traces every line of her face as it appears on his screen, traces every gentle curve and her beautiful smile he thinks about when he closes his eyes.

He misses her. God, he misses her too much it is almost ridiculous.

But this is for them, for her and for himself and he needs to do it, needs to be strong and carry on. And so he does, he goes through the motions of life stoically, with only one goal in mind and that is to finally, one day be with her.

Robin sighs as he rolls over the bed and faces her side. She prefers the right, always does, and he has always been willing to give her any side of the bed as long as he gets to sleep next to her. He hasn't called her today, hasn't for a few days actually, trying to maintain some semblance of control. He barely does so, but he tries.

It's just that it's difficult to try to stay away when all he wants is to be right beside her.

He reaches for the phone on the nightstand and dials the number he already knows by heart. His bill will be astronomical, he's sure, but it's worth it, she's worth it. He places the phone against his ear and hears the ringing. It's some time in the afternoon over there, he thinks, but his mind is too tired to think of the time zones and calculate the time difference. He just needs to hear her voice.

"Hello," her voice caresses his ear like a gentle touch and he breathes a sigh, feeling a smile of relief turning up the corners of his mouth. He misses her. He really does.

"Hi," he greets back, the smile on his face expanding. "It's me, Robin."

He hears her sharp intake of breath, no matter how little, and he feels his heart swell.

"Hi," she parrots, and it makes him chuckle softly. He can almost see her now, pouting at him and crossing her arms across her chest. "Stop it." And then she is chuckling along with him, and Robin can almost say that everything is right in the world again.

"Hi Regina," he repeats, and he feels like a fool for it, feels like he should say something more than hi Regina, like the idiot that he is. "I miss you." And of course, that's the first thing that should pop out of his mouth, why not?

"I miss you too," she says softly, and he could imagine her eyes going soft, her emotions pouring out of her brown orbs. He wishes he could hurry back to her, now. "How's it going? It must be what—quarter to two?"

He nods and then catches himself. "Yes," he answers with a sigh, he couldn't sleep, but she already knows that. "I was thinking of you."

She sighs and he knows that it affects her just as much. There isn't anything else to say, really. All the words have been said, haven't they? It doesn't matter now, anyway. The time and space are meant to heal them, and really all they needed is to let life take its course.

"You'll be back home, soon," she says with more conviction than he feels, and that makes him feel better. She always seems to know exactly what to say.

"Regina?" he asks, and when she hums in response, he smiles. "I love you."

He isn't afraid to say it, isn't afraid to let her know.

"I know," she says, and he hears the tightness in her voice, the tears that wet her tone, and her cheeks, he's sure. "I love you too."

When they hang up and he closes his eyes, succumbing to a deep sleep—he dreams of her, and that smile he misses so much, and he thinks that tomorrow is at least one more day closer to getting back right at home, with her.

 **…**

Robin likes Dr. Hopper. He's a kind doctor who makes feel Robin feel like he's being listened to—and Robin knows it's his job but there is something about the way he seems to treat his patients that makes Robin feel like he's a friend more than his psychiatrist.

They talk about everything, about Robin's drinking problem, about his life in New York, about his life in London before. They talk about his past relationships, including the one he recently had and just ended. They talk about Regina, of how much that relationship has meant to Robin, and how much he loves her, and how he still can't move on from her.

"It seems to me that you've let yourself revolve so much around her," Doctor Hopper tells him on one of their sessions. He leans back and looks at Robin with a neutral expression.

"I suppose," Robin says with a shrug. "I loved her, I still do." It isn't really a question.

"Loved her too much, perhaps?" the doctor asks, making Robin narrow his eyes. What is doctor up to?

"Never," Robin says a bit defensively. "I can never love her too much."

"But you've just told me how your plans had to be pushed back, your Master's Degree for instance, had to pushed several years because there had been bills to pay and a life to maintain." The doctor pauses and looks at Robin square in the eye. "When I asked you why it had to be _your_ dream that had to be pushed away, you answered me with a shrug and said because you love her."

Robin's jaw clenches. "What is your point?" he asks, his tone laced with venom. How dare this man?

"I don't mean to offend you, Robin," the doctor placates, sighing softly. "I'm just saying that maybe, before you give yourself to her fully, you need to rebuild yourself. Perhaps, you have been giving far more than what you're getting. Or perhaps, you've been giving away parts of you, to her, for her, until there is nothing left for you. It isn't to say she hasn't given much, or that she hasn't been giving at all…but perhaps it's time to think of your own heart than just hers? Perhaps it's time to build yourself up rather than trying to compensate for the lost parts with the other pieces?"

Robin's hands ball into fists as he stares ahead.

It's a food for thought, anyway.

His mind hears the doctor and agrees, even understands at a certain degree…but his heart says otherwise. It says that he needs her. He just needs her.

* * *

 **A/N:** _Hi! Thank you for reading! Hope you liked it! **Brace yourself, Angst is coming ;)**_


	10. 10: If You Say So

**Sorry I'm late.**

 **Enjoy.**

 **Angst.**

 **Yes okay, on with it.**

* * *

 **Chapter Ten**

 ** _If you say so_**

 _"_ _I check my phone and wait to hear from you…and now I'll never know if everything I've been told is just a lie so cold."_

* * *

Regina stares at her phone for the nth time the past hour, biting her lip and fidgeting. She awaits the call that never comes, waits for the voice she longs to hear to greet her ears. It's been ages, it seems, since he's last called, seems like it's been so long since he's spoken to her, since she last heard from him. She knows, logically, that she isn't going to be able to talk to him all the time, knows that the process of healing doesn't include talking to each other every day, or _facetiming_ with each other whenever they are free.

She knows that trying to heal isn't going to be together.

But it's been fourteen whole days now since they last had any form of communication and she misses him, misses talking to him. She misses his dimpled smile, the way he bites his lip when he is extremely happy, or teasing, she misses his arms around her and the way he would pull her close just so he could kiss her. She misses the sound of his voice and the feel of his skin against hers.

The conversation they had two weeks ago still echoes in her head. He'd sounded so off, sounded like he'd been so distant and distracted. She'd thought it had been stress at the time, he'd said he was exhausted, but now she wonders if it's anything more, maybe it is more than meets the eye.

 _"_ _I love you, Robin,"_ she'd told him as they were saying goodbye. She'd heard his breath hitch, and she frowned, but smiled when she heard the next words that left his lips.

" _I love you more,_ " he'd said, his voice soft and lulling, exactly as it is when he tells her he loves her.

Her heart fluttered and her lips formed into a wider smile as she closed her eyes, sighing, " _If you say so."_

That had been it, and she'd heard no more from him since that day. She'd tried calling but he never picks up.

It is almost as if he's trying to forget she ever existed.

 **…**

"He's probably just busy, you know?" Mary Margaret says, watching Regina as she sips her coffee. They are out together, catching up after a long week, and when MM had asked why Regina looks so glum, Regina had not been able to stop from divulging her current condition with Robin.

"I know," Regina says, shrugging slowly and looking down on her cup of coffee. She gnaws at her bottom lip and sighs, forcing the tears not to fall. "It's just I haven't even heard from him, not even a peep. Even his _facebook_ wall has no activity for the past fourteen days. It's just unusual. I'm worried."

It is true, she is worried. If anything happens to him while he's out there and she's here, not entirely sure what is happening to him…she doesn't even know what she'd do. She understands that they cannot always be in touch and that there are days that he won't be able to talk to her, and she's fine with that, she just wishes he'd let her know if he's alright, that is all she's worried about.

And it's ridiculous because they aren't even together anymore, they haven't really resolved what their relationship status is. All she knows is that she loves him and he's asked her to wait for him and that is exactly what she is going to do.

"You'd have heard from him if anything happens," Mary Margaret assures her, ever the optimist. Of course, Mary Margaret would always have hope—she's a fricking Disney princess come to life. Sometimes, Regina lets her imagination run away from her and she envisions Mary Margaret talking to birds. Other days, when Mary Margaret gets into her bad side, or is too cheerful for her tastes, she imagines slipping her a poisoned apple.

"I just want to be sure," Regina sighs. She looks up at Mary Margaret and tries to smile, which probably comes out as a grimace. "I'm sure he's fine. I mean, he has to be."

"You know, maybe you should surprise him," Mary Margaret says, her eyes twinkling the way it does when she has an idea which is surely about her meddling into other people's lives.

"Mary Margaret…" Regina trails off with a warning, shaking her head and narrowing her eyes on the younger brunette.

They have come a long way, her and Mary Margaret. There is once upon a time when she'd really have gladly slipped her those poisoned apples at any given time of the day, but now, now, she just thinks of it occasionally.

"Maybe you should fly to London and just surprise him," Mary Margaret continues as if she hadn't heard anything. "I bet he'd like that."

It isn't a bad idea, not at all, and Regina finds herself considering it.

"Maybe," she agrees with a nod, looking down on her cup once more, mulling it over. It would cost her a lot, but it would be worth it to see his face and his smile and finally just press her lips against his. It would be worth it.

 **…**

Regina sits in front of her computer, browsing online for tickets to London. She bites her lip, the amount making her wince every now and again, but she thinks that if it would help, then why not? She does miss him, after all. And the money she can pay off, but every minute that she isn't with him is killing her.

Besides, it's been too long.

It sounds ridiculous, really, because just a few weeks ago, she'd been the one adamant to put an end to this relationship. Only now, now that he's trying to change for her, she knows she has to give a little. He wants this to work, and because she still loves him, she wants that too, and she is willing to go through any lengths to make that happen. If he could pack up and leave everything behind to try and heal himself so they could begin again, then she could do this…she could wait for him and do her part to make this work.

Doubts flood her mind as she casts her eyes on her phone. He still hasn't called. Maybe he's changed his mind? Maybe he doesn't want this to work anymore? Maybe he's moved on? She doesn't know, and she reckons she never will unless he calls her and tells her what is going on. She wants to think that it's all spelled out for her and that this is the end, but Mary Margaret's optimism seems to have rubbed off on her, and now she wills herself to hold on to hope—like what Robin always tells her before he lost his.

" _You fate could go many ways,"_ he'd always tell her before he wraps his arms around her and kisses her temple, making her feel safe and secured, making her feel like maybe, yes, things would work out. " _There is a bright future waiting for you at every turn, even if you miss one._ "

She'd always sigh and cuddle further into his embrace, dreaming of a future and holding on to the hope.

She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose with a sigh and reaches for her phone. Slowly, she dials the number she's already memorized by heart. She bites down on her bottom lip, heart beating erratically in her chest. It rings and rings, but no one picks up, and in the end she is sent to voicemail.

She tries not to be disappointed, but it is there, gnawing at her chest, and she fights the tears that threaten to fall from her eyes. Her breath hitches when she hears the beep.

"Hi," she says softly as she removed her glasses from her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose, "it's me again, Regina. I…I don't know why you suddenly just stopped talking to me all together. I don't even know anymore how we got to this point, where we went wrong. Perhaps it was when you lost hope, perhaps when I stopped believing we can make it right. Maybe you've found someone else. Maybe you're just busy and I'm just getting ahead of myself. Maybe I'm not, and you've finally just found your happiness without me. I don't really know anymore." She pauses as her breath hitches, her voice cracking as tears pour from her eyes. "But I do know that whatever happened between us, I could never regret it. Not any of it, and I would never trade all those years for anything. There might be a time that I wished I hadn't pushed you away, but maybe it was for the best, if it means that you're getting better, then I…I could never regret that." She doesn't know how long she has until she has to finish, so she swallows and closes her eyes. "I just want you to know that you are and you always will be the best thing that has ever happened to me. The pat six years will always be the best years of my life…and I…I love you, Robin. I always will."

She pauses as the tone beeps, signaling the end of the voice mail and she breathes in deeply, before she crumples into a heap on the ground, heart breaking and tears flooding her eyes.

* * *

 **A/N: I did say more angst, didn't I? :) For those who aren't following me on twitter (why?), i announced that this will be 15 chapters long and I have written almost all of it. So a few more to go! Thank you for coming along with me on this journey :)**

 **Let me know what you think.**


	11. 11: Shouldn't be good in goodbye

**Chapter Eleven**

 ** _Shouldn't be good in goodbye_**

 _"_ _If it wasn't so worth it, this wouldn't be, the bad before the worst and the storm before the storm…there shouldn't be good in goodbye"_

* * *

He is a coward.

He knows it too. And really, despite everything that Archie has said about him pushing himself too much at the background and looking down on himself, he really doesn't think that he deserves Regina.

"She deserves something more than just this, mate," Killian tells him over the phone when he'd called to ask how everything is in New York…mainly, how Regina is. "She's been over by the bar asking how you are and I can't keep lying to her, telling her I haven't heard from you when the truth is you've been a bloody coward to tell her what is going on."

He sighs. What exactly is going on?

"I don't even know what it is, myself," he defends, lamely, and he knows that Killian is right, but he _is_ a coward, and he can't bear to hear the hurt that he knows she feels right now, all because of him.

"Oh you don't, do you?" Killian asks, voice dripping with sarcasm, "let me spell it out for you then, mate. You are so afraid to hurt her that you can't even call her to say that you need more time and more space, but you're too bloody selfish you know that that would mean she can move on now, from you, so you only end up hurting her more."

Killian is right. He is being selfish.

"I love her," Robin says, voice low but words true. He's never loved anyone more than he loves Regina. That much, he isn't a coward to admit.

"Then why the bloody fuck are you hurting her this way?" Killian asks incredulously, as though he can't comprehend why this is even happening. Maybe, there really is no explanation to it.

"I don't want to," Robin tells him, because it is the truth, he doesn't really want to hurt Regina this way. "I just can't…I can't pick up the phone and go, Hey, Regina, I'm not really sure I deserve you anymore, not even sure what the fuck I'm doing with my life. I know I said I was trying to fix it, but so far, I'm all out of luck in that department, I need you, I need you like the very air I breathe, but I'm so fucked up I don't want to drag you into this."

He is panting by the time he finishes, and there is a ringing in his ear. His head is pounding and he is about to have a headache, and it's barely even ten in the morning.

"You should be telling her this, man, not me," Killian says with a hint of resignation in his voice. He sighs. "She deserves more than just the cold treatment from you."

That is true, Robin decides, but where to start?

 **…**

His phone rings and rings, and he knows exactly who it is. He wants to pick it up, wants to just talk to her, tell her how much he loves her and he's coming back, coming home to her. but Archie's words ring in his ears, how he needs to learn to love himself first before he could offer himself, because he's broken, broken by the many things that has happened in his life. Regina might have healed him with her love, but he still hasn't forgiven himself fully for the death of his late wife, and that, according to Hopper, had been the reason why he'd been all too willing to push himself aside. And that now, he blames himself for the demise of his relationship with Regina, and he had disappointed her so much. Archie says that he has become his worst bully, and until he could fix himself, heal his broken parts, then he could not love anyone without hurting himself in the process.

How true could that be, he asks, when he is fully, irrevocably, truly in love with Regina Mills?

He doesn't even know. And he doesn't much have time to ponder when his phone beeps and his voice mail kicks in.

It is her.

"Hi," she says softly and she sounds tired, sounds stressed, "it's me again, Regina. I…I don't know why you suddenly just stopped talking to me all together. I don't even know anymore how we got to this point, where we went wrong. Perhaps it was when you lost hope, perhaps when I stopped believing we can make it right. Maybe you've found someone else."

Her voice quivers as she says it, and he knows how much that hurts her.

"Maybe you're just busy and I'm just getting ahead of myself. Maybe I'm not, and you've finally just found your happiness without me. I don't really know anymore."

She pauses as her breath hitches, her voice cracking with tears.

"But I do know that whatever happened between us, I could never regret it. Not any of it, and I would never trade all those years for anything. There might be a time that I wished I hadn't pushed you away, but maybe it was for the best, if it means that you're getting better, then I…I could never regret that." She doesn't know how long she has until she has to finish, so she swallows and closes her eyes. "I just want you to know that you are and you always will be the best thing that has ever happened to me. The pat six years will always be the best years of my life…and I…I love you, Robin. I always will."

Robin feels his heart break inside of his chest. He doesn't know what to do.

Maybe, Killian is right, maybe he is selfish, maybe that is why he cannot bring himself to say goodbye to her, knowing she would and could move on with somebody else and he won't be able to handle it. Maybe Dr Hopper is right, too, he is too broken to ever love her without bringing pain to the both of them.

Maybe, his heart is right, he needs her, and he won't ever be complete without her, and this, all of these, is just torture he's putting them both through.

Maybe he's just using all of these as an excuse to not call her and do the right thing and set her free, because he's a coward.

Shaking his head, he picks up the phone and dials her number. He knows what to say, he'll apologize, he'll beg for her forgiveness, explain to her why he's been doing what he has been doing, and maybe she'll understand. He'll promise not to do it again, and he'll keep it too. He'll do everything to keep her in his life, because that is exactly what he needs, to be with her, to just love her the way he always has, true, honest, and endlessly.

Maybe there is hope for them yet.

Or maybe, he should explain, and let her go, say goodbye because it is the right thing to do.

He brings the phone closer to his ear, listening as it rings, before he puts it down again, ending the call before it has even started.

He couldn't do it, he could not say goodbye to her

He really is a coward, after all.

* * *

 **A/N: I'd apologize but...**


	12. 12: So Cold

_Thank you Geli, for the pre-read._

* * *

 **Chapter Twelve**

 ** _So Cold_**

 _"_ _You caused my heart to bleed and you still owe me a reason, cause I can't figure out why—why I'm alone and freezing…I'm just left alone to cry "_

* * *

She doesn't believe in signs. But this has to be one.

This is divine intervention. If it isn't then she doesn't even know what is.

She is supposed to let go, to let _him_ go, and she was, but she takes this as a sign that she shouldn't. If work has suddenly saddled her into _his_ mother country, then that isn't her not letting go, that is nature and time and the forces telling her not to, not just yet.

Of course, who the hell is she kidding? She could have said no to this, if she'd really wanted to let go, after all this is the electronic age and she can just easily make conference calls to conduct those meetings. She hadn't had to go to London just to be in those meetings.

Only, her muddled brain had jumped at the opportunity to be with him, to be in the same country. Maybe she'll find herself in the streets he used to walk through, maybe she'll find the neighborhood he lives in by accident. Maybe, maybe.

It's been a month, and still none, nothing from him, and she's long since lost hope that she ever would. She'd made herself believe that he's moved on, because well, that is just logical. But her heart says a different thing, and it keeps hope that one day he'll find his way back to her. He did ask her to wait, didn't he?

She strolls down the Covent Garden, having had the day to herself after a long week of meetings. Mary Margaret has called her earlier to urge her to go out, to explore, and it amazes Regina how persistent Mary Margaret could be thousands of miles away. Despite herself, however, she did go, strolling on the streets of London, all by herself and wishing more and more that Robin was there with her. The lights glow and the city is alive with the hustle and bustle of people coming and going. It is pretty late, and she should be getting back, but she can't bring herself to go yet, can't bring herself to face the lonely, empty hotel room waiting for her.

She remembers all the times she and Robin made plans to come to this country, to visit his motherland, to visit his parents. She's met them, of course, when they'd come to visit the US, but she'd always had the open invitation to visit them in their own country. She wishes she's taken those offers now. She realizes how much of Robin had been compromised for her. And though she's made sacrifices of her own, she wishes she made more, worked harder for the relationship.

 _But it's a relationship, not a contest of who gave more to who, there is no need to think this way,_ her friend, Mallory Fuller told her, and though she knows that to be true, she wonders now if there is something she could have done to have made Robin stay.

It is times like this that she wishes she could turn back time, or at least stop it for a moment, just so she could find herself a moment where she could be in his arms, and he'd hold her, all of the past forgotten. Even for just a minute.

But time doesn't work that way, it won't ever, and she's just going to have to learn to accept the things that happened, take it as it is.

" _You're here now, and this is true,_ " is what Robin would always say when she feels all frazzled and feels like time is catching up on her.

She wishes she has him now, to make her feel better, to tell her not to get lost in the sea of what could have been and what ifs.

Sighing, she lets her attention drift from her, lets her eyes roam around the busy streets, the even busier restaurants. She lets it consume her, the reality of this, that she is in London, using business as an excuse to get close to him. She feels desperate, and maybe she is, maybe she needs to let it go now, since she is the one who started this. But as she lifts her eyes to a particular restaurant, she sees him, sees him emerging from the double doors, looking as handsome as she remembers him, maybe even more. He looks well, looks a lot better than she does, really. The whole world seems to stop and it's just him, and her, and no other. The string of people coming and going suddenly blurring from sight.

Her heart beats fast, and she feels like she might faint if it keeps up that pace. She swallows, almost unwilling to believe this. What are the chances?

As if by divine intervention he looks up, as though he feels her presence, and she sees his eyes train to her again, making a myriad of emotions to run through her ruthlessly. His eyes twinkle before they darken, and he looks like he wants to be anywhere but here.

It is only then that she notices a petite brunette coming to sidle next to him, her pretty face turned to his in concern, her arm looped around his. Regina's eyes widen, her heart breaking into a million pieces inside her, and he doesn't even hear it, from where he's standing, he doesn't know it's breaking.

She doesn't know, doesn't realize what she's doing.

She only runs, runs away from him, and this, from reality. She runs, not caring if she's hitting people on the way, tears falling from her eyes like a storm. She doesn't even know what has happened.

All she knows is he's moved on. He is there on a date.

A date.

A mother fucking date—when she almost drags her body out of bed every single day that she doesn't hear from him. Maybe, that's it, he's moved on and couldn't say it to her face and that's why.

He's found his own way of saying goodbye. And she takes that as a sign.

 **…**

The next morning comes soon, too soon for her. She feels the heat of the sun rays streaming through her window, and she feels a little bit lost, feels a little disoriented. She groans and rolls over, trying to find a good reason why there is a headache nagging at her head right now. Her brain conjures images of last night, and she feels her heart breaking all over again at the recollection.

God.

She did know from the get-go that this is a bad idea, so why did she let that little snowflake Mary Margaret talk her into it?

Fighting the tears that seem to want to claw their way out of her eyes, she climbs out of the bed to get ready for the day. Her flight leaves in less than ten hours.

 **…**

It is around noon when someone knocks on her door.

"Must be room service," she says to herself aloud as she wanders to the door, her stomach grumbling as she does.

What waits for her on the other side, however, floors her, and she stands there, mouth agape as the door stands between them, left open because of her inability to move, or process any thoughts.

"Robin," she breathes out finally, voice trembling and hands shaking. "What…what are you doing here?"

He looks remorseful, looks like he hasn't had any decent sleep, and she should not care, but she does.

"I came to talk to you. I called Mary Margaret and she told me where you were staying," he confesses, and of course, Mary Margaret, their resident Disney princess would do just that.

"Well I uh," she stammers, and god damn it she never stammers what is happening to her? "Would you like to come in?"

She doesn't want him to, but she offers anyway, which he takes, stepping into her hotel room with a little unease.

"You room looks—," he tries to say but she cuts him off.

"I'm sure you weren't here to talk to me about the condition of my hotel room, so get on with it," she snaps at him, choosing offense, choosing to hurt than be hurt.

"What are you doing here?" he asks then, looking at her in earnest. "In London, I mean."

She shakes her head, the words _what is it to you,_ right at the tip of her tongue, but she bites it down. "Business," she responds monotonously.

"I'm sorry, Regina," he begins, and no, she cannot hear this. She is tired of apologies, tired of…everything. She doesn't need any more excuses. She just wants to move on.

"No," she shakes her head. He looks at her pleadingly, and it melts her heart, but not her resolve. "No, you asked me to wait for you. You said it, Robin, you told me not to go off falling in love with someone else. What? Was that not supposed to be mutual? So you could go off falling in love but I can't? I had to wait for you?" Her voice is getting louder at every word, and she notices him wince. "And you know that isn't even the most…that isn't even what I'm mad about. I guess whether you asked or not, I would have waited. I would have sat there waiting for you, just there, at the edge of my seat waiting for you to come home, back to me so we could start a new life together. So I guess I don't even begrudge you for that. I …I cannot be mad about that. But you know what I'm mad about? It's the fact that you didn't even have the decency to tell me that you moved on. I mean, it shouldn't be that hard to pick up your phone and say, Hey Regina, remember when we talked about you not falling in love with someone else? Yeah, let's not do that anymore. Move on. But no! For weeks, for a month Robin you ignored me. You let me worry, then go angry, then worry again, then just accept that you don't care enough to give me the courtesy of calling me before you go off fucking someone else. I mean, wow. And I thought you held on to honor and all that shit. Was that just a load of crap then?" She looks away and runs her fingers through her hair. "God, Robin. I waited, by the phone, all day every day, just for you to call me and tell me something, anything, I deserved it, after all these years, for you to let me go with a warning, because…that…" She points at the general direction of her large windows that over look the city. "That was…I don't even know what that was. All I know is that right now, I have no idea how I'm still breathing, because every breath hurts." She sighs as tears prickle at her eyelids. "I held on to you, latched on to you, and all the while, you were letting go without telling me. And you should have…told me, you should have let me know. I deserved to know I was being replaced."

To his credit, he looks pained, but Regina doesn't even care. She cannot right now. "You weren't being replaced. Please just let me explain."

She closes her eyes and exhales, throwing her hands up in surrender. When she puts her hands down, her shoulders deflate. "I don't want to hear it anymore. I'm tired, I'm exhausted. I don't know what I did to deserve you running away from me without any reason or explanation, but whatever it is, fine, great, good." She holds up a finger when he looks about to protest. "No, Robin. I'm happy for you, okay? If you've moved on, if you haven't—you know, it doesn't even matter anymore."

"Regina…"

"I'm sorry," she tells him as if she hadn't heard him. "I'm sorry for hurting you, for breaking your heart and pushing you away. I'm sorry if I made you make sacrifices, if you've been compromised during our relationship…" her voice cracks and she breathes in deeply, "I'm sorry. You deserve someone better, you deserve someone who could give you everything in the way I haven't been able to do. But thank you, for everything, for the memories. Thank you for loving me when I thought I wasn't even worth loving. Thank you for making me feel like I was worth something. You gave me a reason to start believing in myself again, after I've been left so broken by the things that happened to me, and I can never thank you enough for that. You loved me enough for the both of us until I was able to love myself, and you loved me so well that I began to love me, too. I saw myself in a different light, because of you, because you saw me differently and let me see myself through your eyes. It's been an amazing six years, all of it, the ups and the downs, and I will never trade that for anything."

She pauses and looks at him.

"But maybe it's time to move on," she tells him, not willing to risk her heart again. "Maybe it's time to let go of the dreams we once had and make new ones…separately." She reaches up to brush away the tears from her cheeks. "Maybe it's time to let go and really say goodbye."

He is quiet, and though she wished he'd say something, anything, to make this hurt less, to make her feel better he doesn't, and that is almost relieving.

"Look," she continues when the silence stretches way too long, "maybe you should go. I have things to do, and I have a flight to catch."

"Regina, I'm sorry, I cannot even begin to apologize for everything," he tells her again, catching her hands and holding them. He looks like he's about to explain again, but she just looks at him blankly, making him exhale in defeat. "For what it's worth, the woman last night, she's a colleague, at the school, and we aren't dating. Her name is Gwen, and she's married, to a man named Arthur who has been a friend of mine since I've been in nappies."

Her eyes widen but she doesn't say anything. So, she's been wrong, but it doesn't erase the one month that he'd cut her off of his life.

This is for the best.

"And I haven't called because I'm a coward. I couldn't keep hurting you the way I did, hurting myself too, saying goodbye again and again knowing all I wanted was to be right there with you. I was wrong, and I deserve everything, all the pain." He squeezes her hand. "But just know...I do…"

She shushes him, afraid her heart would break if she hears him say it again. "Yes, I know," she tells him.

He nods then before pulling her into his arms and kissing her. She wants to fight it, but she's weak and powerless to do so, and she feels herself melting into his touch as his mouth wreaks havoc into her consciousness. She needs him, needs him more than she's even thought possible.

She feels him back her into the bed and she lets him, the back of her knees hitting the mattress making them both topple over. She's pretty sure he hadn't come for this, pretty sure this isn't what goodbyes are made of, but she doesn't care anymore—couldn't find it in her to do so.

His hands slip to her shirt, caressing the soft skin of her taut stomach, reaching up the undersides of her bare breasts, and he cups them in his hands, making a moan slip past her lips. He pulls away, breathless.

"Regina," he whispers against her throat, as he buries his nose at the junction where her shoulders and neck meet. "I don't think…"

She shushes him with a finger on his lip. "Don't think," she says, pleadingly. "Just feel, and let me feel. For a moment, let us just throw caution to the wind and stop thinking."

He smiles though a bit strained, before diving in to kiss her once.

* * *

 **We are almost there, just a few more. Let me know what you guys think!**


	13. 13: Beautifully Unfinished

**Unbeta-ed, don't hate me.**

* * *

 **Chapter Thirteen**

 ** _Beautifully Finished_**

 _"_ _I know that I should not hold on, so why can't I let go… Maybe all that we were meant to be is beautifully unfinished"_

* * *

He's kissing her.

He's kissing her again after so long, he's finally kissing her again. And he feels like he might just have died and gone to heaven. His tongue slides against hers and she lets out a little moan that goes straight to his groin.

"Robin," she moans once more when he pulls away to trail kisses down the column of her throat, sucking her succulent flesh. He licks her fragrant skin, her very essence pulling him up high, high, higher until he's drowning in her.

"Gods, Regina," he murmurs against her skin, watching with fascination as goose bumps rise all over her flesh. She is warm, warm to the touch, but she is quivering, trembling as though she is cold. "You are so beautiful." He pulls back just enough to watch her face.

She blushes, her cheeks now tingeing with pink as her mouth falls open slightly, and she breathes in and out slowly, and he could have sworn she has never looked more beautiful.

"I love you," he whispers, and though he knows it might not have been such a brilliant idea on his part, he lets the words fall from his lips, knowing with his heart and soul that he means it more than anything in this world.

He loves her, she loves him, and despite everything, it really is just that simple.

Only, it isn't, and he knows that, she knows it, and neither of them are letting it affect them, here, and now.

She doesn't answer him, doesn't return the words that he wants to hear, but he understands, he knows it anyway—she doesn't have to say anything anymore to let him know. So he leans down and takes her lips in his, kisses her in the way that he's always wanted to.

He has imagined this moment, when she would finally be in his arms and he could make love to her, after such a long separation, he's wanted this so much, imagined it so much that the images had burned in his retina.

But he had never imagined it to be like this…this intense and heart wrenching. He imagined a dozen ways it could go, he imagines the feelings and emotions, from happiness, to guilt, to sadness, to exhilaration, but he had never thought of this—of being overwhelmed, of the getting hit by the myriad of emotions now swirling in his brain, of having his heart so full he fears it might explode.

Regina looks him dead in the eyes, her brown pools probing through his blue ones, and he swears he could dive in them, get himself lost there forever and not want to find his way back. She is beautiful, excruciatingly and wonderfully so, and he still sometimes cannot believe that this goddess loves him with in the same way he does her.

He doesn't ever feel like he deserves her, and maybe he never will, but somehow, he has her heart.

"I am but a thief," he whispers before he leans down to kiss her once more, moving slowly down to worship every inch of skin he reveals to his hungry eyes as he slides her shirt up her head. He throws it into a heap on the floor, letting the rest of their garments follow soon after. He kisses her breast, roughly where her heart is. "I feel like I have merely stolen your heart."

She shakes her head as she threads her fingers through his hair, pulling him up slightly so their faces are level. She kisses the tip of his nose. "You cannot steal what's been given to you," she says ardently, and he smiles at her, inching down once more to worship her goddess-like beauty, her body, the home to her beautiful heart and her wonderful soul.

His heart pounds in his chest and he sighs, before cupping the back of her head and capturing her lips in a heated kiss. He slides his tongue inside her mouth, seeking hers as her hands roam around his body, fiddling with the buttons of his shirt and sliding it down his shoulders and leaving his skin bare for her to feast on. He pulls away to push back the strands of her hair off her forehead, and he just stares at her, stares at her like he hadn't seen her a long time, like he won't ever again.

Maybe.

Maybe, they are the kind of people who are destined to fall in love but are never meant to be together. Maybe they are made from the tragic love stories, and their roads are meant to cross, but never to stay.

"Whatever it is," Regina says, her voice shaky, "Whatever it is that you're thinking, don't. Don't think about it."

He looks at her and sees the fear in her eyes, sees the longing, sees the love.

"We're here now," she murmurs as she pulls him down, closer to her, "And this is true."

He nods before he resumes the task of loving her, of worshipping her body, kissing down her neck, to her chest, to the pink tips of her breasts. He licks her skin, tasting her, savoring every bit of her that he could, and he slithers down, down her torso, to her pelvis, kissing the spot where her hip and thighs meet.

She squirms, hips bucking, and he chuckles softly before he kisses her inner thighs and makes his way down to her core where she is hot and dripping. He licks her clit, making her hips buck once more, and only making him even more determined, and he does it again, eliciting a long, loud moan to rip from her throat. He smiles and works her up, licking, kissing, nipping at her sex until she's begging him and god to let her cum, profanities spilling from her lips.

A strangled scream escapes her mouth when she reaches the pinnacle of her orgasm, and it makes him proud, proud that he could make her like this, and he feels his heart expand and expand in his chest until it threatens to explode and come apart in pieces.

He kisses his way up her body once more when he's assured to have licked ever single drop of her cum, and had been satisfied that he'd been able to make her reach her climax. He presses a kiss upon her lips, and feels her tongue peek out to sweep at his before sliding inside his mouth. She kisses him as she wraps her legs around his waist, aligning their sexes.

"Make love to me, Robin," she asks, her hot breath hitting his already overheated skin, sending him into an overdrive.

He nods and braces himself with both his hands before pushing into her, making both of them moan in synchrony, the pleasure ripping through them. He pulls out and pushes in again, letting them both get accustomed to this again. It has been a long while.

"I love you," he murmurs against her skin, once more, overcome by the need to say it aloud, to tell her, because he cannot let another moment pass by with her not knowing.

"I know," she tells him. "I do too, and now I want you to show me."

And so he does. He shows her exactly how much he loves her.

* * *

 **We are so close to the end. Let me know what you think! :)**


	14. 14- I Love you, goodbye

**this is one of my most favorite songs, and one of my more adored chapters. I hope you like it too.**

 **Thank you to my friend Willow, for her edit which is the cover image of this story. Thank you, babe! It's beautiful.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter Fourteen**

 ** _I love you goodbye_**

 _"_ _Leaving someone when you love someone, is the hardest thing to do, when you love someone as much as I love you"_

* * *

She loves Robin.

Her mind is running hundred miles per minute at the moment, and there are so many things she isn't sure about, but if there is one thing she is sure of: it is that she is completely in love with Robin Locksley.

It is also why she cannot stay.

She cannot stay because she loves him and that sounds fucked up even to her ears, but it's the best thing for them right now, because right now, her heart is too broken for her to be able to give it to him.

Maybe she's the one who needs to heal this time.

Maybe, their relationship is too broken and it's beyond repair.

 _Beyond repair_.

Well that should be the title of her autobiography.

She shakes her head at her own thoughts before she rolls over and climbs out of the bed she's just shared with Robin. She pulls the sheet tight across her chest, watching for a while as Robin stirs, but falls back to sleep, looking tired, but at peace. Tears gather at her eyes and she sniffs, trying to dispel them.

She cannot fall apart now. What she needs is to get dressed, get her belongings out of the hotel room, check out and get a cab to the airport, all without waking Robin up and letting herself fall apart.

It is a task, but she somehow manages to do all that, and less than half an hour later, she's in a taxi on her way to Heathrow, leaving the man she loves behind.

It is for the best, she tells herself even as her heart tells her that she is about to commit the biggest mistake in her life. She's done this once, walking out on him, pushing him away, and it has so far only ended up disastrously. But her heart and her whole being have been clobbered too much, too many times and she cannot take it anymore.

She just needs to start letting go, let her heart fall into pieces and hope to god that she has enough pieces of them left in her to stitch it back together. It will take time to heal, she realizes, but it will still be a heart, and somehow, after some time, she will learn to get used to not having all of its pieces.

"Miss, we're here now," the taxi driver says, effectively waking her from her reverie.

She looks up at him, startled, before she jumps back and takes control of her wandering mind. She digs through her purse for a few bills, handing it to the driver, who has the car door opened and has all of her luggage at the side of the car by the trunk.

"Thanks," she murmurs as she climbs out of the taxi.

"He'll find you," the driver says, ominously though not in a creepy way which she just pins down to the accent. She throws him a look, unsure whether she's amused or annoyed, to which he only tips his imaginary hat at her before he's rushing to the driver's side and driving away.

If that isn't weird that she isn't entirely sure what is.

Well, she does, what's weird is that she's here, in the airport, walking through the gates to board a flight back to the United States, to New York, with all the memories she isn't even sure anymore if she wants to burn from her mind or remember for the rest of her life, when all she wants is to be right by Robin's side, back to side of the man she loves.

Only, that isn't even weird anymore, it's painful.

Monotonously, and as if an automaton, she walks around the airport searching for her gate. She checks herself in, handing her boarding pass and passport to the attendant without a word and a blank stare on her eyes.

She finds a seat and waits for the announcement that the plane is boarding. She doesn't know if it's been hours, or just minutes, or maybe even just seconds, but agitation and anxiety creep up to her and suddenly her feet want to run away, away from here and right into Robin's arms where she has been so sure she belonged.

Stamping down the urge, she gets up from her chair and heaves her carryon bag on her shoulder and takes her purse. She takes a walk down the aisles, thinking that surely, it won't be long till they start boarding. She just needs to pass the time.

"Calling all passengers of Flight 892 to New York, gate G14 is already open for boarding," she hears over the noise of all people crowding the airport.

With a grateful sigh, and a mental pat on the back for not running away and going to Robin, she walks over to her gate, and that is when she hears it.

"Regina!" she hears someone shout from behind her, and it paralyzes her, makes her stand on stick legs that won't move, not away or towards him.

She bites her lips and closes her eyes, trying to remind herself that she can still breathe, and that she should.

"Regina," she hears him pant and her heart breaks.

She tries not to turn, to just walk straight, but her heart betrays her mind, and she turns, looking at him with glassy eyes.

Or are those actually tears that are now running down her cheeks?

"Robin," she whispers on a breath she barely has.

"Regina," he says, walking straight to her. He is panting, heaving, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

"What are you—how did you get through?" she asks, painfully aware of how her words seem to have deserted her.

"I bought a ticket to Ireland," he says with a shrug, as though it isn't a big deal.

Well it's a big fucking deal, alright.

"Why am I getting a sense of deja vu?" she asks ironically, trying to get him to leave with her look but so failing miserably.

"Don't go," he says and she only looks at him like he has grown two heads, which is infinitely better than what he's suggesting.

"I can't not go," she somehow finds herself answering. "I need to…my flight's boarding."

"Then miss it," he suggests, taking a step forward and making her take two steps backwards. "Miss it and stay right here with me. We can have a fresh start."

"I—I ca—Don't think that-," she stammers as he takes another step, and she takes another two, "don't think—I can't."

He takes a step and before she can do it, too, he cups her face in his hands and kisses her. Talk about a three-hundred and sixty turn—now he's asking her to stay.

"Stay," he whispers when he pulls away and touches their forehead together.

She lifts her chin and takes his lips in hers, pulling away when her lungs burn, her lips falling onto the tip of his nose, his breath bouncing against her skin.

"I love you," he says. "And I'm an idiot because I keep trying to figure things out when really, there is nothing to figure out…I have already figured it out, I love you."

Her heart clenches and then breaks. She sucks in a deep breath. "And I love you, too," she whispers because it's the only truth she knows.

"Then stay," he begs.

"But I cannot stay," she tells him as she pushes herself away from his hold. She can barely look him in the eyes, but try she does. "I cannot stay because this time I'm the one who needs fixing. I'm broken." She shrugs. "And I'm not going to lie to you and say that it isn't because of you, because it is, partially. But I'm broken because of me too, because I don't think I completely healed." She shakes her head. "You loved me completely, and you healed parts of me, but I…I only loved the good parts that you've made out of me…the broken part I just completely shoved it out of memory, and I think…I think I need to…no, I want to fix me, heal me, before I even try to make this work."

He doesn't speak, and somehow, his silence is louder than the sound of the people around them.

"I don't even know if that makes sense anymore…." She trails off and then looks away, reaching up and brushing away her tears. "All I know is I cannot be here right now, and I cannot stay."

"We have been trying to heal ourselves, trying to fix parts of us, but what if…what if we heal better together?" he asks, and for once, she doesn't have answer to that.

He might have a point.

And he does, actually.

Only, she doesn't want the together part if she's not even able to keep herself together.

"Robin," she whispers, just as the last call for her flight goes off.

"Regina," he breathes out, looking at her pleadingly.

She bridges the distance between herself and him, this time cupping his face in her hands and kissing him. "I'm sorry, but I have to do this, okay? You wanted to fix yourself once before, and now I want that too." She smiles through her tears. "I love you, but I'm letting you go."

"But I…" he tries to say but she shushes him, knowing exactly what he wants to say. She is certain she won't even have a heart to stitch back together if she hears him say it.

"I know…" she tells him with a nod. She touches their forehead together. "Love again."

And with that she lets him go and walks away, going through the gates without looking back. She won't be able to handle it, and she isn't exactly sure she can say goodbye one more time.

This time, she's letting him go. She's letting it all go.

This time it's goodbye.

 **A/N: don't hate me and don't send me death threats just yet, the course of true love never did run smooth. Let me know what you think (okay, cursing is allowed, but mildly, please).**


	15. 15: The Man Who Can't Be Moved

**Surprise, bet you thought you've seen the last of me. Ha. Nope. Im here to bring you the ultimate chapter, by that i mean the last one. Mehehe. Thank you everyone for your support and love and follows and faves and reviews. This whole thing won't be what it is without all the love you've given it. I can never express in words how grateful I am for each and everyone of you. To everyone who's been there since the beginning of this journey, THANK YOU, I LOVE YOU. I hope that this fic stays with you somewhat, and that you'd look for it again and read it when you just want to hurt yourself or something. haha. anyway, thanks! Till next time!**

 **Unbeta-ed. Pardon le mistakes and ENJOY!**

* * *

 **Chapter Fifteen**

 _The Man who can't be moved_

 _"And your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I could be_  
 _Thinking maybe you'll come back here to the place that we'd meet"_

* * *

It's only taken him half a year, but he had finally gotten his life together. Well, most of it. He's not completely, totally repaired, and he doubts that he ever will, but he's getting better, he's gotten better. All he needs now is Regina.

Ah, Regina.

He still remembers that moment she's walked out on him and had taken the flight out of London to get her life together, too, it seems. It had hurt then and it still hurts now, but at least he knows that she is right—it is for the best. They have relied on each other too much that they had forgotten who they really are outside of their relationship, forgotten how to be happy without the other. But now, now, he knows how to be. Though, he must admit that there is that perpetual hole in his heart that she used to fill, he does feel like he can live, knows that he had lived without her.

It doesn't mean that she's not the missing piece to his happiness, to his life, to his soul, because she is.

She still is.

She always will be.

And that's why he is here now, on a flight back to New York to surprise her, and show her that he deserves her, once more, that they can make this work, that they could be together again and this time it'll be forever.

He's under no illusion that it will be easy, time still has passed and things have happened since, but he knows that they can make it. They are still two people woven from the same fabric, still two halves of one soul, and he knows that deep inside, her heart still beats for him the same way his heart beats for her.

He loves her so much, oh god, and he truly cannot wait to see her again.

Today is the day.

 **...**

Today is the day.

Mary Margaret has told her that today is the day. Of course, she'd known that Robin is coming home, he'd told her himself, but he hadn't told her when, and she supposes it's a surprise. But when MM knows, secrets really aren't a thing.

But no matter how she's found out, the point is Robin is coming home.

And really, Regina can feel her heart bursting in her chest, threatening to just jump right out of it, and she's so excited and anxious to the point that she feels nauseous. It has definitely been so long. It's been six months, eight days and twenty something hours since she'd last seen him, since she'd walked out on him and took the plane back to New York. She'd asked for space and she'd gotten it. Though they still sometimes managed to talk through emails or phone calls, Robin had given her a wide berth, had even urged her to go out on a date that Mary Margaret had set her up with (though she'd heard him grit his teeth and the angry clenching of his jaw). That date had ended up in a disaster, and had only made her miss Robin more.

She doesn't really regret it, going back to New York and finding herself, letting him find himself too. It is good for them, probably the best decision they've made. Not only had she found peace in herself and happiness that had not relied on Robin, she'd found out how much she loves him too. And it's odd, twisted, even , that she has that realization but it's the truth. She's realized that while she _can_ live without Robin, she doesn't want to. She wants to be with him, wants him to be in her life because he puts more colors into it, makes her happier, makes her be more herself.

She misses him. God she misses him so much.

And she loves him. Loves him more than she can ever put to words.

And now, in a few more hours, his plane will be landing and she can finally, finally hold him again.

 **...**

The last few hours of his flight is a complete torture. It seems as though Regina is so near yet so far, and god all he wants right then is to hold her, hold her in his arms and never let her go.

He hopes that his friends have gotten done what he's asked him to do. If he's going to do this, after all, then it has to be something big. Besides, he knows that Mary Margaret cannot keep a secret to save her life, so he has one shot at surprising the woman he loves, then this is it.

He smiles as he leans back into his chair, imagining the look on her face.

He really cannot wait to see her.

 **...**

His flight is delayed. Or that's what they all tell her. He'd be coming in, but he won't be until the next day, and that had disappointed her, but she's consoled herself with the fact that he's on his way. But she isn't as good at hiding her disappointment as she's initially thought, because Tink and Mary Margaret had picked up on it and had asked her out to have drinks with them just so she doesn't wallow in her sadness. They'd gone with David and the guys: Killian, Will and John.

Begrudgingly, she's accepted. Though of course, they'd bring her to where she's first met Robin, making her remember him more and miss him more. But she can't do anything. There isn't much to do until Robin's finally home, to be honest, and even then she won't know how everything will play out. So will they move back in together? Will they pick up where they left off? There seems to be a mutual understanding between them that what they have is forever and that they _will_ get back together once they sort things out...but how far back will they be in terms of starting over?

She doesn't really know.

Maybe they'll play it by ear.

"Earth to Regina!" Tink says while waving a hand in front of her face. Regina snaps out of her reverie and looks up at her friends. "You're so far away, where have you been?"

Regina shakes her head and looks down. Lost in thought, she'd been, but dare she say where her thoughts led her?

"You're wondering how far you're going to start over with Robin aren't you?" Tink asks with a knowing smirk (it greets her when she whips her head up in surprise). There are days that she wonders if Tink is a seer or a fairy or something of that sort.

"Get out of my mind, moth," she snaps, rolling her eyes. But she _does_ wonder.

"Maybe take it slow," Mary Margaret replies, adding her two cents, and though Regina appreciates it, it doesn't really help.

How slow is slow?

"I'm afraid to fuck it up again," Regina admits to them as she bites down on her lip. "We've been far apart so much that I just want this to work this time."

Tink places a hand atop hers, squeezing slightly for comfort. She responds with a weak smile.

"You've spent so much time apart to be spending even more," is all that Tink says, but somehow, it rings clearer.

 **...**

There she is.

He can see her with her back turned to him, on the same table she's been sitting in on their first meeting. She's looking so gorgeous, her hair longer than the last he'd seen her. She looks so anxious, and he wonders briefly if she knows he's coming. But then only Killian and Will knows, and he's asked them to bring her at the bar they'd first met without telling her that his flight is not really delayed.

His heart pumps so fast and so loud inside his chest that he fears it might burst, but every step he takes is one step closer to her, and suddenly nothing matters but her.

He watches as Mary Margaret's eyes widen, and Tink's smile broaden before he's caught up in the dark eyes that he's been dreaming of for so long, because she's suddenly turning, turning until she's facing him, and he's forgotten where he is or what he's doing, only knows that he's staring into the eyes he knows he is born to gaze into.

"Robin," she whispers as she shoots up from her chair, almost stumbling as she makes her way to him. There are tears in her eyes and he could feel his cheeks dampen.

Oh god, this moment is glorious.

"Regina," he whispers as his arms open for her the moment she catapults herself into them.

There aren't words to describe this moment, or to use right at that time, yet he finds them, and he whispers them into her ears:

"I love you, Regina, god I love you," he says, making her sob as he wraps his arms around her shaking form. He knows her emotions have overwhelmed her and words have escaped her, and they both look like a right mess, but there is nothing more beautiful than this moment where they are both finally, finally, standing in each other's arms.

"I missed you," she murmurs as she pulls back just enough to look him in the eyes.

He leans his forehead on hers and kisses her nose, a light peck, just a reassurance that he's really here. "And I, you, my love," he tells her, for he has. He's missed her so much.

Suddenly, all the doubts that filled him while he made his way here fled his mind. It doesn't really matter what happens from here on, whether they move back in together right away or wait three more months to do so, whether they pick up where they left off or go back from the start.

It doesn't really matter.

What matters is that they're doing it the best way: _together._

 ** _Fin_**

* * *

 _ **I might add a PROPER smut chapter, We'll see how motivated I am. But for now, adieu! Thanks for reading!**_


	16. 16: Home

**As promised, proper smut for y'all. Thanks for reading. For everyone who's only recently found this trash, thanks for sitting and reading it. Also to those who read it from the beginning, again, much love for you troopers!**

 **Here you go, you dirty ones.**

 _Unbetaed, so pardon the mistakes._

* * *

 **Chapter Sixteen**

 ** _Home_**

 ** _"So I'm going home, back to the place where I belong, and where your love has always been enough for me."_**

* * *

 _Together._

The word seems more meaningful now that he is here, back with her. Back in her arms where he belongs, where his home is. And she's just right at home in his arms, in his eyes where she's drowning now as they dance in the middle of the dance floor, uncaring about everything around them.

It is rather odd that the band had played a slow song, at first, but then she'd soon realized that it had been Robin who had arranged for it, who had wanted this night to be more special for her than it already is (she'd initially thought that isn't possible, but here he is, being his wonderful self and going through lengths to make her happy), and her heart had grown twice its size in her chest at the thought. God, she loves this man. More than anything.

She could feel his lips press against her cheek before ghosting down the column of her neck. He moves back up to place a kiss against her ear, then her temple then goes back down again, making her laugh softly. She can feel that he really had missed her, as she had him, and this moment right here felt too wonderful for words. It isn't just their physical body that are reuniting, it's also their hearts and their soul. If both could sing, they'd have broken out in song at how happy she is right then.

"I've missed you, so much," he whispers against her temple, saying it once more no doubt just because it's the overwhelming truth.

She feels the same.

"I've missed you too, my love," she says against the fabric of his shirt before she pulls back slightly to look at him. "These past few months...I've not been sure what would happen, to us and to our relationship. I wasn't sure about much of anything, to be honest. But I was sure that every second I spent away from you, my heart and my soul wept from missing you."

It's uncharacteristic for her to be speaking so openly of her feelings, usually she's a woman of not so many words, but with Robin, she's always been an open book, always willing to spill her heart out and let him know her thoughts. She trusts him completely, and knows that whatever she might tell him, she tells him in confidence that he won't tell anyone. It stays between just the two of them.

"I felt the same," he admits as he looks into her eyes and lets his forehead fall against hers. He steals a kiss against her lips, and she sighs contentedly giving it just as freely. After all, he can't steal something she's freely giving to him. "Everyday I've wanted to come home...to you. I knew that there wasn't any other place for me but your side, and I'd wanted to come home bad, but I also knew I had to better myself and to let you do the same. We had needed that time apart to set our priorities straight realize that we really couldn't live without one another."

There aren't truer words spoken. It's really proven to her how much their lives are one, that they cannot possibly live without one another. They are after all, two halves of one whole. It's become very hard to function without each other.

"I love you," she says.

"And I love you," he says back.

 **...**

Once the song is over, they make their way back to their seats where their friends are. Robin watches Regina as she blushes prettily when their friends tease them over their overt display of affection. But it's all been in good fun since everyone in the table knows exactly how much he and Regina had gone through and how much they'd missed each other.

But they _are_ right.

He and Regina should get a room.

He looks at her and tightens his hold on her, making her look up at him too. He gives her a look and she bites down on her lip, looking down shyly. It is rather amusing that after everything they have been through, he still manages to catch her off guard.

"Hi Love," he says, as he leans down to kiss her lips softly.

She chuckles at his childishness but meets his lips halfway, "Hello," she greets back.

"Perhaps I could take you to a walk under the moonlight?" he asks her, smiling his crooked grin he knows always manages to get him his way with her.

She smiles at him shyly and shakes her head rather fondly. "Perhaps," she says, though they both know that that is a resounding yes.

He grins at her and squeezes her hips where his hand had been resting before cocking his head to the side to signal that they should say goodbye to their friends. She nods and stands up, letting his hand fall away as she tries to stretch her legs.

"We should be going," he tells their friends who are now looking up at them with knowing smiles. He rolls his eyes. "It's been a long day and I'm tired, so myself and my love are heading out."

"Sure, Robin, you're both leaving to _rest_ ," Will teases, grinning at him. Beside him Killian and John sniggers.

"Shut up," Robin retorts, taking Regina's hand in his. Regina herself is blushing and he finds it adorable. He wants to kiss her so badly—but that has to wait.

After a few more ribbing and teasing, he and Regina finally make it out of the bar. The fresh air (as fresh as it gets in New York) hits his face and he smiles, hand squeezing that of his love's.

"It's good to be home," he says, looking at her. She is his home, always has been.

"I'm glad you're home, Robin," she tells him, looking up at him with glassy eyes but with a beaming smile. "It makes me feel I've come home, too."

He knows exactly what she means and his heart flutters in his chest at her words, and before either of them could blink his mouth is on hers, his hands framing her delicate face, fingers intertwining with her black tresses. She tastes so good, tastes like mint and apples and something so Regina, tastes like coming home. He cannot help but slip his tongue through her lips and trace every crevice and contour of her mouth.

God, she makes him feel so alive.

The kiss seems to go on and on and on, and they only pull away solely due to shortness of breath, but Robin could have gladly stayed kissing her. She feels his lips place a butterfly kiss against the tip of his nose, and he lets his forehead fall against hers, his eyes still closed. He clutches her to him and sighs.

"I do hope you don't mean this when you said a walk under the moonlight," she teases, arms wrapping around his middle as she holds him closer.

"Actually, milady, this is exactly what I mean," he teases back as he kisses her forehead.

She opens her eyes and stares up at him. He could see that devilish glint in her eyes and the saucy smirk in her lips and he grins. "We don't have to do this out in the open," she tells him. "There's always the bedroom, my darling."

He chuckles and squeezes her once before dropping a kiss on her temple and letting her go, so they could start that walk. He wraps one arm around her shoulder though, unwilling to let her go that far. "Lead the way my love," he tells her, and merrily so, she does.

 **...**

They barely make it inside of her apartment. He traps her against the door before she can even open the door, the keys dangling in her hand as she lets him press his lips against every patch of skin he desires. She wounds her arms around his neck and sighs in his mouth, letting him push his tongue inside and taste her. He lets his tongue twine with hers, playing, sparking a fire deep inside her as his hands fall to cup her bottom.

"Regina," he whispers raggedly, voice husky and heavy with lust. She feels his arousal press against her hip and she wiggles a bit, lets it rub against her, enjoying the moan that slips past his throat.

"Robin," she manages to moan out before his mouth is back on hers, kissing, devouring her and making her forget everything. She still needs to open the door, still needs to let them in, still needs, oh, to feel him all over her, loving her and never stopping until the sun is back up in the sky again.

She never wants for this moment to end.

"Let me open the door," she says once she pulls away. She's panting, her chest heaving at every breath. Her lips are swollen and heavy with his kisses, and she likes this, misses this. At the back of her head, she wonders if this is right, if they should do this when things remain so unclear between them, but frankly, she doesn't care anymore. She wants him so much, misses him so, so, so much.

He lets up and lets her turn around in his arms so she can open the door and let them in. She finds that it's a much more difficult task when her hands are trembling as she tries to slide the key in. And it's even harder when she feels Robin's blatant desire poking against her back as he lines kisses down her nape across her shoulders, moving back up to suck on her skin.

"Ro-Robin," she stutters, her head lolling to his shoulders when he sucks on a particular spot that makes her knees weak. His fingers are moving up her thighs now, up and up and up until his fingers skim across the hem of her dress, and the he slips it in and lets his index finger find his wetness. He runs it down her slit, pressing down on her hardened nub. "Oh god."

"Love," he murmurs, his nose burying against the crook of her neck. He keeps fondling her clit, making her wetter and igniting her senses. She feels like she's on fire, feels like she's about to tick off any minute with the want she feels for him.

"Just let me..." she pauses just a second to buck against his hand, her thoughts loss on her now. "Let me...door...Robin...mmhmm."

Behind her, Robin chuckles, and she tries to get the key in through the hole, tries to turn and get it open, without much pleasing result. She growls in frustration, making Robin chuckle harder, his fingers falling away from where it's been nestled between her thighs. She turns to him with a scowl.

"You open the door then, if it's so funny," she orders, slapping the keys to his palm and moving behind him.

He smirks at her, and even if it annoys her at that particular moment, she's still missed that smirk so she only raises an eyebrow at him and waits out. When he turns back, an idea forms in her head and she moves a step forward and wraps her arms around him. She lets her hand coast from his chest down to where he's hard and wanting for her. She grasps it in her hand and strokes down once, up, and down again, until his back arches slightly and his hips are bucking against her hand. She smirks devilishly.

"Robin, the door," she says, blowing hot air against his neck, just because she can't quite reach his ear.

It seems to take all of his concentration, but somehow he manages to get the door open. They move inside, their steps all hurried and their breaths harsh. He pins her against the door once he closes it and takes her mouth in his. She mewls against his mouth and reaches out and runs her nails down his clothed back.

He tastes so good, tastes so perfect, fresh and something so authentically him, and she realizes now how much she's missed it. Of course she's missed it, missed it so much, but now there is a ferocious need that courses through every fibre of her being and she needs more, more as she wraps her legs around his waist and tries to grind down on him to relieve much of the pressure that's built on her clit. Her core is throbbing now and she needs him.

"Robin," she whimpers as he moves a bit further, letting her feet fall to the ground. He, himself, falls to his knees and rucks the skirt of her dress up her waist, peeling her panties without another word. Another beat and his mouth is on her, sucking, lapping, nipping against her sex. She's left with nothing to do but moan and groan, head thrashing against the wooden surface. She lifts her leg and rests it over his shoulder, using it to press his head closer to her cunt. God, he feels so good, and it feels even better when he sticks his tongue inside her slit and slides inside, then out, then in again until her knees are trembling and she's too weak to even stand.

"Robin, oh my god," she moans loudly, followed by a high pitched groan as she moves her hips in tune to the rhythmic lapping of his tongue. "Baby, yes, yes, mhmm."

He sucks on her clit then, and it doesn't take her too long before she all but explodes in his mouth. He lets her ride her orgasm as he licks and licks and licks her clean. When she feels like she's no longer floating in the air and she's grasping at nothing, she moves a bit, meets the eyes of the love of her life and finds him staring at her with pure adoration in his eyes.

"I love you," he murmurs, turning his head to place a kiss against her thigh. "And I want you so, so much. I cannot wait to be inside you, to spill all of me deep inside you."

She shivers at his word, wanton now and needing nothing more than his length inside her. "And I love you too," she says, taking her leg off of his shoulder. She smirks at him and then turns, bracing her palms against the door before turning, her chin resting on her shoulder, to give him a smouldering look. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

He doesn't need to be told twice, he moves up, arms encasing her and pinning her further to the door—not that she has even the slightest inclination to move. He takes one hand and runs it down her back, letting it rest against the cheek of her arse, squeezing it, slapping it softly, making her moan. He leans his whole body over hers, until she's pressed against him with nothing but his hand on her ass between them. He nibbles against her ear.

"I'm going to take you now, Regina," he rasps, his words making her tremble. "I'm going to take you against this door, so anyone who ever passes by outside can hear me take you hard, fast and rough." She swallows. "I'm going to make you see stars."

"Fuck me, Robin," she murmurs, moaning when he slips inside her without warning. She knows it's coming, but still it surprises her, though she's too wet now that it doesn't even make her twinge. He bends her over just a little bit more and continues to fuck her from behind. "Yeah, just like that."

He groans and grunts behind her, and then shifts his hips until his hard length hits that spot inside her that drives her wild, that makes her cum hard. And dear god, she _is_ going to cum hard, so fucking hard for him. Oh holy fuck. If this is how good fucking is when they're apart, they should probably arrange a week long time apart tomorrow at ten.

Her thoughts lose track when his other hand fall to her clit and he fondles it, stroking it and rubbing it until she's a mess of wanton desires and moans and groans and a high need to cum. Jesus, Christ, she can feel him, feel him as he starts to go sloppier and faster and rougher with his thrusts, until he's just point blank thrusting inside her with a ferocity that she's not known before.

She takes his free hand to her neglected breasts and lets him pinch and pull at her hardened nipples. She braces herself against the door to support their weight, because he's careless now, only wanting and needing for her to cum so he could too—not that it's about to take long. His hips slap against the skin of her ass, and she thrusts against him, trying to tell herself that she should be quiet and finds that she really fucking can't, not when he's fucking her cunt this way, lord jesus, it feels so fucking good.

"Regina," he gasps, and she knows instantly what he means, he's cuming, he needs to cum, and she's just about to, she's on the edge, and she begs with him, pleads with him, _please, please, Robin just a few more, right there, and then oh!_

As promised, she sees stars as he explodes inside her the same time she climaxes hard—she can't remember being fucked as thoroughly before, and it feels so fucking deliciously good. He comes with her name falling from his lips, which drowns the little scream that she lets out.

And then they are both falling, falling onto the ground, weak and spent from such rigorous love making, but he braces her fall, takes her so she lands on his lap rather than on her ass.

She curls up onto him and sighs contentedly, feeling so much sated and satisfied. Her heart is beating so hard against her chest and she closes her eyes while letting her lips ghost up the column of his throats until they find his lips. They share a passionate kiss, that stirs them both up, but mostly, it's an assurance that they are here now, and this is true.

"I love you," she murmurs against his lips.

"And I love you," he answers.

She opens her eyes and stares up at him, eyes wondering, searching. Her mouth opens before her brain could catch up and she's only sorry to ruin the move when the next words leave her mouth: "So what now? What happens now?"

He looks confused for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing and lips dropping into a frown. She's about to tell him not to mind it, they have time to worry tomorrow, tonight should just be about them feeling each other and loving each other until her worries fade away, but he smiles and kisses her forehead.

"It doesn't matter to me, Regina, as long as I have you. We can take it as slow or as fast you can. I can still stay over at the other apartment or live with Killian until you're ready to move in together. Hell, we can recreate out first meeting and I can ask you again for a first date, just as long as I know that I'll manage to steal your heart again."

She smiles, heart finally coming to a decision that she's always know she's going to make. Honestly, there had never been any option or second choices. "

"You can't steal something that's been given to you," she tells him, the same words that she'd given him on the first night they'd met spilling from her lips freely. She leans up and kisses him softly. "There is no need to live with Killian and subject yourself through the torture of watching him canoodle Emma all day. You can move back in," when he looks like he might say something honourable, she cuts him off with a look and an impatient wave of her hand, "You _need_ to move back in. This is your home, Robin, _our_ home. And this is the one place where you belong. Right here, with me."

He smiles at her and leans in to kiss her again, and she can almost swear that she can stay here forever, and ever, and ever, maybe until forever ends. He buries his nose to the crook of her neck and she reaches up to run her fingers through his hair, holding him to her and vowing to never let go.

"I've been so afraid I'd have to say goodbye to you, that when I come back I'd...I didn't know what I would get back to, and I was afraid of more goodbyes. I'm relieved that there is no more need for them," he murmurs against her skin, and she feels hot tears wet her skin. "I'm finally home."

"There is no need for anymore goodbyes," she echoes. She tips his chin and makes him look at her. She kisses him softly before embracing him. "You're finally home."

 **Fin**

* * *

 **It is FINALLY finished. FOR REAL. I hope you enjoyed that dirty sticky smut. I enjoyed writing it :P**

 **I just wanted to say that I know that it seems like I have rushed the ending because it might seem like it should be longer, I know that. But the truth is, I did not. I had originally planned for the ending to be just Regina leaving and they go on to their separate ways, or that her plane crashes or Robin's when he goes to get her back. That's the truth, ask Geli. But I've decided that maybe if they could just chill out a bit, they could work it out and they did. so there had been no further plans to the story other than it ends badly or it ends well. i decided to end it well. So yeah just that, my way of explanation as I feel some of you might have been disappointed OR wondering what the heck that ending was. That was the kinder version :P**

 **Let me know if you liked the smut, i mean, the story. Let me know what you thought! Thanks for reading and see you again!**


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